Salt and Pepper
by DWgeek2010
Summary: Charlotte (Charlie) Matthews, long-time friend of Shawn and Gus, gets roped into Psych, as well as helping solve cases the police cannot. She may even find some romance along the way...Lassiter/OC Rated for language and eventual adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**Salt and Pepper: Chapter One**

Charlotte Matthews (or Charlie, as she preferred to be called) was engrossed in the murder mystery _8_ _th_ _Confession_ by James Patterson, unknowingly playing with the end of her long, red braid and biting her lip. It was only three hours into her shift, but there wasn't a single person in view; the library was like an empty mausoleum.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, she kicked combat-booted feet onto the desk, knowing that her boss wouldn't be showing up today so she was able to get away with it. With the library usually this empty in the summertime (all the kids didn't want to be anywhere near a book when they could be at the beach), Charlie caught up on her reading, ranging from reading informational books (mostly about guns, one of her passions) to history, but mostly murder mystery books, which were her favorite.

She gave the clock a quick glance before returning to her enticing novel; she still had four hours left of her shift before she headed over to her second job at a small mechanics shop called Joe's. If there was one good thing that her dad had done for her before ditching her and her mom, it was to teach her everything she knew about cars and working on them.

"What the hell are you doing, Lindsay?" Charlie mused to herself, scowling at the book as the main character found herself in quite the love triangle. She heard sniggering from someone as she continued to mumble to herself, but it didn't really register in her mind that someone was in the room with her until they sharply knocked on her desk.

Not bothering to look up, a scowling Charlie held up a finger as she kept reading. She then pointed over at the lone computer in the corner, which was for looking up and locating books and such, which is what this person most likely wanted. She heard a snort before a smooth voice asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find a book on renewing/mending old friendships?"

Growling under her breath, but still not looking up, she replied, "Self-help books are located upstairs, and the children's section on friendship (she sneered this) are around the corner. Help yourself and shoo."

She felt, rather than saw, the person still standing at her desk and sighed loudly.

"What now? D'you need me to hold your hand and guide you to—" she broke off suddenly as she finally looked up from her book, marking the page with her hand. She saw her friend Burton Guster (his friends called him Gus), whom was looking at her with an apologetic look before her eyes moved to the other man standing at her desk. Her book slipped from her hand and fell to the floor with a soft _thud_ as she stared open-mouthed.

"S-Shawn?" she gaped at her friend that had left Santa Barbara almost immediately after high school to travel around. She had heard from him occasionally, usually through Gus, and more recently, Henry, Shawn's dad. She knew that he had taken odd jobs here and there and had no idea that he was coming back to Santa Barbara.

"Hiya, Charlie," Shawn said, with a stupid grin on his face. Charlie got over her shock long enough to vault over her desk and pull Shawn into a tight embrace. When she pulled away, she slapped him, scowling. Gus winced as she turned her glare on him (he hadn't informed her first thing) and took a couple steps back.

"When did you get back into town?" Charlie asked Shawn, turning her glare onto him. He flinched, still rubbing his cheek, which was pink.

"Oh, a few days ago. I've been very busy settling in or else I would've been by to see you sooner," Shawn said, flinching again as Charlie crossed her arms. He had forgotten how violent Charlie could be at times when she was really mad and immediately started thinking of ways to make it up to her.

"You did not, Shawn," Gus reminded him. "It was only after I reminded you that you came."

"No it isn't," Shawn argued. The two started doing their whispering/arguing that they always did and Charlie sighed, fed up. She grabbed both of them and lightly smacked their heads together.

"Knock it off," she growled, running a hand over her face. "Now, here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to go back to work and tonight after I finish my shift at the garage, we're going to go out to dinner and catch up. If either of you fail to show up, I'll hunt you down."

Shawn and Gus shuddered under her glare before she suddenly smirked at them. "Gotcha," she chuckled. "But seriously, dinner. Eight o'clock on the boardwalk."

She returned behind her desk and picked up her book and kicked her feet up on her desk again and grinned at them.

"See ya later, boys!" she wiggled her fingers at them and Shawn and Gus nearly sprinted out of the library.

 **One Year Later**

Charlie growled herself as she walked down the street to the Santa Barbara Police Station. She had gotten a call from Shawn that he had been detained and was going to be questioned. She knew that him calling in all of those tips was a bad idea and had told him so several times. Now, she was going to have to post bail for him if he was arrested again. She scowled, knowing that she was going to lose money and knowing Shawn, she wasn't going to get it back. Why couldn't the idiot just listen to her?

She entered the station and went to the front desk, where a large, but pretty dark-skinned woman sat, looking a bit amazed. Charlie took notice of the woman's earrings, as well as all the crystals and dream catchers around the woman; so, she was into psychics and the paranormal.

"Excuse me," Charlie said, smiling at the woman. "I'm looking for Shawn Spencer? I was told that he was in for questioning. Do I need to post bail?"

"Oh, no, honey. They already let Mr. Spencer go," the woman (Officer Allen, as her nametag identified her) grinned at Charlie. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," Charlie said, and then grumbled under her breath, "A dead one."

"Honey, you're friend is the best psychic I've ever seen and he didn't even charge me a dime! You're a very lucky woman to have a friend like that, so willing to help the police," Officer Allen said, smiling warmly at Charlie, who was confused.

"Thanks," Charlie said, giving Officer Allen a quick smile before storming out of the police station. She pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket, quickly dialing Shawn and scowled when she got his voicemail.

"Shawn Spencer, you'd better call me back within five minutes," she yelled into the phone, causing people to look at her strangely, which she ignored. "I just took off from work to bail you out of jail only to find out that you're already gone by the time I get there, causing me to lose a full day's pay! Call me back." She slammed her flip phone shut, nearly breaking it before walking to the library to retrieve her bike and then rode the two miles to her apartment.

She decided to fix herself lunch and maybe even treat herself to a nap since she couldn't finish her shift at the library (it had been taken by a weasel of man named Chuck) and she didn't have to work at the garage that evening so she had a very rare evening off. She was considering taking a bubble bath that evening as she approached her door (apartment 5F) before she noticed that something was wrong.

She didn't know what it was exactly; call it a sixth sense. Her gut feeling was confirmed when she heard a soft _thud_ come from inside her apartment. She pulled her Glock 19 out of her satchel (registered, of course) before trying her doorknob, finding it unlocked. She slowly entered her apartment, her Glock out in front of her like a pro (she went to the firing range every weekend she could) and narrowed her eyes, searching for intruders.

She heard another noise coming from her small living room and whipped around the corner only to find Shawn and Gus (both of whom had been snooping through her knick-knacks) screaming like little girls at her sudden appearance with a gun.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, immediately pointing her gun at the floor and semi-relaxing. "Why are you guys in my apartment?!"

"It was Shawn's idea!" Gus immediately threw his best friend under the bus.

"You," Charlie growled, pointing at Shawn. "What the hell were you thinking, getting nearly arrested? I went to the stupid damn station, only to find that you'd gone. And why the crap do the police think you're a psychic?"

At the end of every sentence, she punched Shawn in the arm, making him wince and rub his arm in pain, knowing that it'd probably bruise.

"That's why we're here," Shawn grunted, continuing to rub his arm.

Charlie sighed before putting her gun back in her purse.

"Hold that thought," she said tiredly, holding up a hand at her best friends. "I need lunch first."

Both Shawn and Gus' eyes lit up a the mention of food and the apartment fell silent as Charlie set about fixing grilled chicken sandwiches for lunch.

"Okay, explain," she said, not even looking up as she waited for the chicken to finish cooking on her George Foreman grill. She didn't say a word as Shawn told her the story of what had happened at the SBPD. Shawn finished just as she set plates of food down in front of the boys, who immediately started digging in.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and said, "So, let me get this straight: you're pretending to be psychic, to the police, none the less, to help them solve crimes? I don't know whether to be impressed or…pft, I don't even know what else to say."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Shawn said with a grin. Charlie snorted and shook her head at him before sighing.

"Another thing," she said, giving Shawn a glare. "Why did you feel the need to break into my apartment? I almost shot you guys! You could have just called me!"

"Because, Charles, that's how I work," Shawn said, trying to be smooth, but Charlie just punched him in the arm.

"I told you, don't call me Charles," Charlie growled at her friend.

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn said, not even making sense. "Anyways, grab your coat and/or jacket. You need to come with us."

"Come where?" Charlie asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"To solve a case," Shawn said, trying to be mysterious, but it wasn't working.

"Just for today," Charlie said, poking Shawn in the chest, which he rubbed. She grabbed her jacket and satchel before following Shawn and Gus out to Gus' company car (a 2002 Toyota Echo) that Charlie had affectionately called the Blueberry, due to its bright blue color.

"Shotgun!" Shawn shouted, sprinting for the car. Charlie just shook her head at his child-like antics. She just scowled as she climbed into the backseat and leaned forward, her chin on the passenger seat to look at the file Shawn had; that was until Gus cleared his throat and said, "Seatbelts, please."

Muttering curses under her breath at Gus, she buckled in and crossed her arms, glaring at her friend in the rearview mirror.

"All right, guys, pay attention," Shawn said, opening his file. "18 months ago, Camden McCallum ran his father's cigarette boat into the Morrow Bay aquarium. That was right after he got caught with that hockey player's wife."

"Yeah, I remember that," Gus said, frowning.

"Guy hadn't been out of the papers in five years. Since that day, nothing. Not a single news story. Not so much as a dented motorcycle,"

"Which is really weird," Charlie said, thinking.

"Okay, so what do you guys want to do?" Gus asked.

"I think Camden McCallum is too good at what he does to stop. Not cold turkey anyway. Beautiful women, fast cars. Doesn't add up. Something happened," Shawn said.

"So, scene of the crime?" Charlie asked, getting excited at the thought of going to a crime scene, complete with detectives and forensics.

Ten minutes later, Gus pulled up at the McCallum residence and Charlie's jaw dropped.

"Holy shit," she gasped in awe. "This place is huge!"

"That it is," Shawn said, grinning at her as she climbed out of the backseat. She handed Gus his pharmaceutical sample case out the backseat and handed it to Gus when he asked for it and then put on sunglasses, looking around the huge estate, wishing she had a place like this.

"How should we introduce ourselves? Don't say "psychic". They'll shut you off. Say something vague. Like 'alternative tactics division'," Gus suggested to Shawn.

Charlie snorted as Shawn said, "How about the bureau of magic and spell casting."

"Or you can just say psychic since the police already think you are one," Charlie said, ignoring Gus' glare. Shawn veered of course to the front door in favor of going to the garbage cans, looking through them.

"Where are you going?" Gus asked in confusion. "You're rooting through trash?"

"Just for a second," Shawn said, digging.

"Ooh!" Charlie said, pulling out laptop that looked brand new. "Damn, I love rich people."

"You two are without a doubt the worst detectives I've ever seen," Gus scoffed and Charlie smacked his arm with her free hand that wasn't holding her new free laptop.

"Gus, everything you need is right in front of you," Shawn said in lightly scolding tone. "You just have to pay attention."

"Oh yeah?" Gus asked, scoffing as Shawn moved aside a lampshade to find a couple of empty bags of dog food.

"Look at this," Shawn said, holding up the bag.

"Ooh, that's Berenson's Brand dog food," Charlie commented, taking the bag from Shawn. "The pound would buy it once in a while when they had the money when I worked there. Of course, I only worked with the cats 'cause dogs are evil."

"She's right," Shawn said. "It's the highest quality dog food on the market."

"Perfect. They pamper their pets," Gus said sarcastically. "The case is almost solved."

"This stuff is really expressive," Shawn mused, pulling out two more bags. Charlie frowned, thinking. "No additives. No preservatives. Why would you possibly open three bags simultaneously when you only have one dog?"

"They're rich. They waste money," Gus argued, not getting it.

"No, Shawn's right," Charlie said. "And I don't say that often. We would use one bag and ration it for the dogs for two weeks and trash gets taken once a week. Why would they use three bags in a week? That's a lot of dog food for one dog."

"Oh, my god!" Shawn exclaimed, startling Gus and Charlie.

"What? Is it a body?" Charlie asked, causing both Gus and Shawn to look at her in a 'what-the-fuck' manner. "What? I like dead bodies."

"What is it?" Gus asked Shawn, turning from his weird friend.

"This CD case it totally nice!" Shawn exclaimed, pulling it from the trash. "Why would someone throw this out? Here, put this in the car!"

He gave the case to Gus, who immediately threw it back in the trash with a frown.

"Inside, now," Gus growled at Shawn and Charlie, spinning on his heels and heading for the front door. Without Gus looking, Shawn took the CD case out of the trash, slipping it under his jacket.

"Good luck with hiding that from Gus," Charlie said with a smirk, slipping the laptop into her satchel.

"Eh, Gus needs to stop being a busybody," Shawn said, grinning at her.

Charlie snorted and said, "Dude, sometimes you don't make any sense. Gus is just fed up with your antics, like he usually is."

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn said.

"Whatever." Charlie shook her head, lengthening her strides to catch up with Gus.

"Is it entirely too early for me to have a theory?" Shawn asked Gus and Charlie, catching up to them.

"Can you at least wait until we see some evidence?" Gus hissed at him.

"I suppose I could if it would make you happier," Shawn said nonchalantly.

"It's possible to form a theory, Gus," Charlie scoffed at Gus, "But Shawn and I both know that you just want to see and/or talk to the forensics guys."

"S-Shut up, Charlie," Gus stuttered, glaring at her.

"Whoa, just act natural," Shawn said, as they passed some officers in the hallway.

"I thought you said they knew we were coming," Charlie hissed at Shawn, noticing one of the detectives glaring at them. Charlie peeked around the corner at the tall, lanky detective. He was very good-looking with salt and pepper colored hair and what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched on his face.

"They know," Gus hissed.

"How could they know?" Shawn asked, nonchalant.

"They know," Gus repeated, scared at the thought of getting caught.

"We haven't said anything yet," Shawn argued.

"They know. I can feel it," Gus said.

"Oh, you're a psychic now, too?" Shawn asked.

"You're not a psychic," Gus hissed.

"Will you two knock it off?!" Charlie snapped, smacking both of their arms. "You two are drawing the most suspicion just by arguing. Now, Gus, stop freaking out and Shawn, do your fake-psychic-y thing. Now get your butts in gear."

It took Shawn and Gus a moment to shake off the shock before Shawn grabbed one of Gus' and Charlie's arms and pulled them further away from the living room and whispered, "Gus, let's just be clear on one thing. The only way they can absolutely prove that I am not a psychic is if I tell them. And I can guarantee you, that is the one thing I will never do."

Shawn spotted something down the hall, exclaimed, "Ooh. Ooh, Ooh! Check this out," before walking off.

"You got a lead?" Gus asked, following. Charlie gave one last peek at the sexy detective with a smirk before following her friends.

"No, but look at this girl," Shawn said, indicating to the McCallum family portrait hanging on the wall. "She must be the sister. God, she's incredible."

"Eh, she's okay," Charlie said, wrinkling her nose, hoping he'd move on to more important things. She wandered off to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets for anything that might stand out.

"Who are you? Civilians aren't supposed to be at a crime scene," a voice sneered from the kitchen doorway. Charlie turned around to see the sexy detective standing there, glaring at her. She smirked at him before turning and ignoring him.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," he snapped, grabbing her arm.

"Let go!" she exclaimed, yanking her arm out of his grasp. "Seriously, you can't just go around grabbing people! One of these days someone's gonna kick you in the balls or taze you. Oh, and my name is Charlie and I'm here with Shawn Spencer, the psychic."

With a dark glare, she turned on heel and found Shawn and Gus in the living room, where the police had set up their base. Shawn was looking through some photo albums while Gus was taking a couple of his anxiety pills. Charlie took a deep breath as Shawn left with the other detective lady and stood by Gus.

"Dude, these detectives are such assholes," Charlie complained to Gus. She showed him her arm, which was bright red, and said, "This is gonna bruise. I should file for police brutality."

Gus just snorted and shook his head, saying, "Yeah, if you leave out the fact that you probably antagonized him."

"Thanks, best friend," Charlie said sarcastically, sneering at Gus. "This is so stupid. I'm pretty sure that this chick has nothing to do with her bother's disappearance; I think Shawn's just obsessed with her."

"I know," Gus said. "He just asked her out a moment ago while her brother is missing!"

"Despicable." Charlie shook her head at her friend's tact. "C'mon. Let's go find the bonehead."

Charlie and Gus found Shawn sitting in the den, working with the sketch artist, who was drawing a picture of a young man wearing a beanie.

"Shawn," Gus hissed.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk to you for a second?"

"Like, now," Charlie added when he didn't answer for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah," Shawn said, focused on the sketch, then addressed the artist: "So just a little more to the left and I think we're there. All right. What's up?"

"What are you doing?" Gus asked.

"Just…Just work with me, you guys," Shawn told them. Charlie rolled her eyes, starting to think that Shawn didn't know what he was doing.

"Tell them you're blocked or something," Gus suggested.

"Or just stupid," Charlie muttered under her breath.

"I'm gonna have to use that later," Shawn said, making Charlie snort as he said that right after she called him stupid. Shawn then turned to the artist and asked, "Uh, how we looking over there?"

Charlie sighed, putting her hand over her face as the artist turned the sketch around and she noticed that Shawn was just going off of a picture that was sitting right behind the artist. Honestly, could he be any more of an idiot?

"Oh, that's great," Shawn commented on the sketch. "Now look how good that is."

The artist showed the sketch to Gus, who noticed the same thing Charlie had with the photo.

"See how he's looking off to the left like he's seeing something? As far as the hair goes, can we get the bangs wispier like he's trying to compensate for like maybe he's thinning in the back and sort of got a swoop?" Shawn asked Gus and Charlie.

"He's an idiot," Charlie said out of the side of her mouth to Gus, who nodded. The mother (who was talking to the lady detective) caught sight of the sketch, screamed, bringing the sister, Katarina, into the room in a panic.

"Oh, my gosh! It's Bill! Oh, it's Bill! Oh, honey, come here quick. Bill's the kidnapper!" the mother exclaimed loudly, freaking out. Katarina looked at the sketch in shock and breathed out, "That's the exact cap I gave him."

Charlie cleared her throat, causing Gus to look over and she used her eyes to indicate to the photo that was in plain view of everyone. Gus side-stepped and stood in front of the photo, hiding it and Charlie gave him a thumbs up, making him smile.

"Okay, everyone. Stop!" Shawn closed his eyes, pretending he was having a vision. "No, no! I'm sorry. Bill is not the kidnapper."

Gus snuck the photo under his jacket, taking it to Charlie, who slipped it into her satchel, planning on disposing it somewhere around the house.

"Not the kidnapper. Bill is just a horrible human being. Who is "Bill"? I'm getting, uh, multiple women. Is he a bigamist? Pimp? Does he sell children on the black market?" Shawn asked and Charlie groaned. What an idiot.

"Good job on getting us kicked out of the crime scene, Shawn," Charlie grumbled as the three of them left the massive McCallum estate. Shawn ignored her as he spotted Mr. McCallum coming up the stairs towards them.

"Mr. McCallum, I'm Shawn Spencer, the psychic," Shawn introduced himself.

"Well, thank you for coming," Mr. McCallum said. "If there's anything I can do…"

"I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you, sir," Shawn said, causing Charlie to raise an eyebrow at Shawn's unusual sympathy.

"Nothing can prepare you for something like this knowing you can't do anything. Call me any time with any questions," Mr. McCallum offered as he turned to go inside.

"Uh, actually, I do have one question, sir," Shawn said, making him pause. "How did he feel about the dog?"

"Well, he loved the damn thing. Didn't do anything without it."

"Yeah. That'll do it. Thank you, sir," Shawn said with a smile.

Charlie got into the back seat of Gus' car once more (Shawn had shoved his way past her with another cry of "Shotgun!")

"Does he like his dog?" Gus asked in disbelief. "That's how you investigate?"

"I think we're making progress," Shawn argued.

"Since you've been here, all you've done is dig through the trash, hit on the victim's sister, and falsely accuse her boyfriend," Gus yelled, getting mad. Charlie sighed. She agreed with Gus; Shawn was getting nowhere, fast.

"Gus, he is not her boyfriend. She made a point to say they're free to see other people," Shawn argued.

"Which has nothing to do with the case, Shawn!" Charlie snipped at Shawn, frustrated. She could be having a nice, hot bubble bath right now, enjoying a drink and a good murder mystery book.

"Charlie's right, Shawn," Gus fumed. "Have a blast. I quit."

"You can't quit. We just got started!" Shawn called out as Gus walked away. Charlie, fed up, followed Gus to his car.

"Watch me," Gus retorted.

"Yeah, I'm leaving, too, Shawn," Charlie said as Gus tossed his case in the backseat. Charlie (secretly happy to get the passenger seat) asked Gus to drop her off at her apartment before he headed back to work. She could hear Shawn calling out to them as they drove away, but she ignored him, choosing, instead, to strike up conversation with Gus about how his job was going. Gus talked her head off the whole twenty minute car ride and she promised to take him to lunch later in the week before waving at him as he drove off.

Charlie made herself chicken fettuccini alfredo for dinner before relaxing in her claw-foot tub, surrounded by bubbles, holding her glass of whiskey in one hand and an informative book on skydiving in the other.

-(*)-

Charlie grumbled out curses as her alarm went off the next morning at seven; she had to roll out of bed to get ready for work. After her shower, she wandered out into the kitchen, wearing just a towel, to start her coffee machine, when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She let out a small shriek and reached for a knife from her knife block before she realized that it was just Shawn and Gus, sitting on her couch.

"Well, at least you did better at defending yourself than Gus here did," Shawn mused as Charlie slammed the knife down on her counter, making Shawn and Gus jump.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you two?!" she screamed out. "I could have been naked! I could have had a fucking gun!"

Shawn, flushing slightly, ignored her and said, "I've made a big break in the case and I know who kidnapped him."

"You know what? I don't care!" Charlie shouted, storming back to her bedroom. She took a deep breath and thought for a minute. She bit her lip, wanting to know who did it. It was a real-life murder and dammit, she was curious! She slowly wandered back out to her living room, Shawn smiling at her.

"Alright, who did it?" she asked, leaning against the wall.

"Nobody," Shawn said, repeating what he had told Gus an hour before.

"What the hell, Shawn?" Charlie growled, turning to go back to her room.

"Wait, wait!" Shawn called, making her pause. "Nobody did it because he did it himself. Here, I'll show you!"

He lay out a bunch of newspaper clippings and pictures out on the table, keeping quiet while Charlie looked over them, seeing what Shawn had seen.

"Okay, I get it now," she said after five minutes, heading to get her coffee. "He had to clean up his act or daddy dearest was going to cut him off. Story of just about every celebrity brat. That guy." She pointed at a man in the photo. "That guy helped him do it, somehow."

"That's Malcolm Orso," Shawn input. "He claims he hasn't seen him for eighteen months, nearly to the day. He's been planning this thing for over a year."

"Holy shit," Charlie breathed and then something occurred to her. "Where did you get these pictures, Shawn?"

"Katarina's bedroom," Shawn said in nonchalance.

"Seriously?" Charlie groaned. "That's a bit pathetic, Shawn."

"Well, let's go," Shawn said (ignoring her pathetic comment) and then noticed something. "You should probably go get dressed first."

"I can't go, Shawn. I have to go to work this morning," Charlie said, heading for her bedroom.

"Well, at least let us give you a ride to work," Shawn said, using his puppy-dog face.

"Fine," Charlie grumbled. She went to her room, pulling on jeans and a button-up flannel shirt and pulled on her combat boots. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and grabbed her military jacket and satchel on the way out the door. Her door had only been shut for a second before she raced back in and grabbed a travel mug of coffee.

She climbed into the backseat of the Blueberry, sipping her coffee and popping her neck, not entirely awake. Twenty minutes and a doze in the backseat later, she sat up straight, looking around out the window. They weren't anywhere near the library. Actually, they weren't anywhere in Santa Barbara.

"Where the hell are we?" Charlie growled in panic, seeing them surrounded by green woods.

"Following a lead," Shawn answered from the driver's seat.

"What the fuck, Shawn?" she screeched. "I have to go to work! I'm gonna get fired!"

"Relax, Charlie," Shawn said, using his soothing voice. "I'll get you back to work before lunch time."

Charlie fumed in the backseat the rest of the trip, arms crossed and sending dark looks into the rearview mirror. They pulled over at the side of the road, the three of them getting out of the car, Shawn pulling a pair of binoculars out of his pocket and exclaimed, "Dudes, I'm so excited. This is my first use of spy technology."

"Such an idiot," Charlie grumbled under her breath.

"Yeah, it would seem much cooler if it didn't have Sports Illustrated pasted on the side," Gus inputted, sniggering after hearing Charlie's comment. They stopped at the edge of a lake, a cabin and a sweet (in Charlie's opinion) yellow muscle car parked in front of it; she couldn't be sure, but it looked like a Chevy Chevelle.

"Hmmm, it came with the subscription," Shawn commented, looking through the binoculars.

"Are you gonna tell me why we're here?" Gus huffed

"This is the Orso family cabin, where young Malcolm and young Camden spent all their summer growing up," Shawn said, checking it out through the binoculars.

"Wouldn't the police have checked this out?" Gus asked.

"Not if they weren't smart enough to do so," Charlie grumbled, snatching the binoculars from Shawn, using them to see the sweet car.

"She's right," Shawn said, patting Charlie's shoulder, which she shrugged off. "Malcolm is so fat out on the periphery of Camden's life. He's not on the witness list, he's not on anybody's list. This is a great plan. Camden McCallum deserves to be commended.

"Maybe you should date him, too," Gus sneered out.

"Maybe I will," Shawn said in retaliation.

"Oh, shut up," Charlie snarled, handing the binoculars to Gus when he held out his hand for them.

"Oh, no way!" Gus exclaimed after a moment.

"What?" Shawn and Charlie both asked.

"It's Camden's dog!" Gus said, excited.

"Get…Dudes! Dudes!" Shawn suddenly exclaimed.

"Oh, my gosh! I can't believe we did this! This is unbelievable!" Gus exclaimed, excited. Charlie was also getting excited, despite her bad mood. Shawn started jumping up and down, flapping his hands in a ridiculous motion. Charlie smacked him on the back of the head, taking the binoculars back from Gus, easily spotting the dog running around.

"What! What! Okay, okay, wait. Look. Okay, wait. Let's call the cops. No, no, no. Let's call the chief! That's what we're gonna do. Call the chief. Yeah!" Gus said, also getting excited. Charlie pulled her cell phone out, ready to dial the police station before Shawn started yelling, "No, no, no. No, no, no."

He took Charlie's phone from her and nearly threw it in the lake before she stomped on his foot, shouting, "Don't you fucking dare!" causing Shawn to drop her phone right in her hand. She stuck it in her pocket, giving Gus the binoculars back.

"We don't call anyone," Shawn said, after he finished hoping around on his sore foot and shooting Charlie a dirty look; she crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him.

"What?" Gus asked, confused as to why Shawn didn't want him or Charlie to call anyone. He also took a step away from Charlie, scared of her temper, which he had witnessed several times throughout his life and had resulted in injuries before.

"We don't call anyone and then later, at headquarters, I suddenly and miraculously have a vision," Shawn said, jumping again, but quickly stopped when Charlie stared at him. She took a sip of her coffee; hanging around Shawn for too long gave her a headache.

"A vision?" Gus asked.

"A vision of stuff we saw! Like the road sign with two bullet holes. Like the red kayak, the yellow kayak, and the highway. With numbers? Oh, I'm seeing…Eight, three, one…." Shawn said, holding his fingers up to his head in a strange fashion.

"We're on Highway 138," Gus informed him.

"Exactly," Shawn said. "In the spirit world, things get jumbled and out of sequence. But my premonition becomes clearer when we all jump in the squad car together. By the way, let me sit next to that junior detective."

"The lady detective?" Charlie asked and Shawn nodded and Charlie added, "Eh, the tall one is much hotter."

"Shawn, Charlie, please," Gus sighed at them.

"And alas, we'd lead them here," Shawn continued as if Gus hadn't spoken. "And finally, we both put on our surprised faces as I guide them to the cabin for the first time. This is mine."

Shawn did a practice gasp and then asked, "What do you two have?"

Charlie snorted as Gus looked disappointed and they both walked away, heading back to the Blueberry.

"Gus, Charlie! That's horrible! They don't convey surprise at all! Gus! Charlie!" Shawn called, running after them.

The three of them took the drive back to SBPD and Charlie looked at her watch, groaning when she realized that it was too late for her to go to work. She may as well call them, telling them that she had woken up sick and was recuperating.

"All right, let me do the talking," Shawn said as they walked down the street towards the station.

"Is there even an option?" Gus snorted.

"No, I want—I want a lot of witnesses for my miraculous vision," Shawn argued.

"Oh, man," Charlie groaned, rubbing her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Gus agreed with Shawn, patting Charlie's shoulder. "There they go. There they go."

"Detectives! Detectives!" Shawn called after Detectives Lassiter and Lucinda. "Detectives, we have a breakthrough! It's very important."

"I also have something important," Lassiter said, eyeing Charlie, who scowled at him, holding up her wrist, which was bruised (Lassiter felt a twinge of guilt). "I call it lunch. Make an appointment."

"No, no, no," Shawn input. "But this is…"

"You don't have my interest," Lassiter said. "You don't have my ear. Find a beat cop, tell your story, maybe I'll read the report. Good day, gentlemen, lady."

"Asshole," Charlie snorted, Lassiter hearing her and gave her a glare. "And I'm not really a lady."

"You know that's right," Gus said with a grin, which disappeared with a squeak when Charlie glared at him. They followed after the detectives to just outside a Mexican restaurant, with Shawn calling out, "Detective!" He stuck his fingers up to his head again, doing his weird psychic hand motion and said, "Don't eat the chicken."

"Don't eat the chicken?" Gus questioned, as they waited out in the parking lot. Charlie leaned against the railing lighting a cigarette while Gus continued, "So, the plan was to annoy them into believing you."

"Billy Camp's working the grill," Shawn explained.

"So?" Gus asked.

"So? Billy Camp has the worst hay fever I've ever seen. Feel this wind? Feel it?" Shawn asked passionately. Charlie snorted and stamped out her cigarette as Lassiter stomped over to them.

"Here we go. Act natural," Shawn told them.

"Already am," Charlie said to him, making him smile.

"Okay, what is it!?" Lassiter shouted at them as he neared them.

"I've had a psychic vision," Shawn declared, holding his hand up to his head. "I know where Camden McCallum is."

It seemed that was all it took for Lassiter to load the three of them in his car and drive out to the woods. Once again, Charlie was by the lake, this time smoking while Shawn was practicing his shocked reaction.

"All right, this is great. Now what?" Lassiter snapped at them. Charlie smirked at his grumpy demeanor, crushing her cigarette butt under her boot.

"Does anyone have any binoculars?" Shawn asked.

"No," Lassiter growled. "No, you see, we don't carry binoculars."

"Well, you should," Charlie snarked at him, making him glare at her.

"Oh, never mind, I found some here in my pocket," Shawn said, wanting to break up a train wreak (he knew how bad of a temper Charlie had and from just having met Lassiter, he, too, had a temper) spoke quickly, looking through the binoculars he pulled out.

"There it is! Just like I saw it!" Shawn said, using his fake surprise. Charlie had to cough to cover up a snort as Lassiter grabbed the binoculars from Shawn.

"You wanna tell me what I'm looking for, please?" Lassiter snarled.

"Aw, he said 'please'," Charlie said sarcastically. Lassiter growled at her but she couldn't help it; it was just too much fun to wind him up.

"Uh, I'm not sure exactly. I see a bone," Shawn said, trying to 'focus' on his vision.

"What? A human bone?" Lassiter asked.

"No, no, rawhide, and a ball," Shawn said as Lassiter saw the dog running around.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed. "Call for backup."

"What? What do you see, Detective?" Shawn asked in an overly-fake voice.

Charlie elbowed him in the ribs, making him squeak in pain, as Gus called the Chief for backup. Charlie lit another cigarette (she was really trying to kick that habit) as they hiked around the lake to the cabin. She, Shawn, and Gus were practically shoved out of the way when the SWAT team arrived with a bunch of police. They received a very stern lecture from Lassiter to keep out of the way and definitely stay out of the cabin.

"I can't believe they won't let us in," Shawn whined like a five-year-old. "This is lame."

"And you were so polite when you asked the SWAT team to issue you the Luger," Gus said.

"Ugh, Lugers are not as good as my Glock," Charlie said, wrinkling her nose.

"D'you have it on you?" Shawn asked in excitement.

"Yes, I do, and no, you can't have it," Charlie said, making Shawn mock-pout.

"You're no fun," he said. "Just make sure you act in awe of me when they come to say I was completely right. Oh, and maybe a little afraid, like my powers could possible be used for evil."

Charlie snorted and said, "Dream on, Shawn. I think I can muster a surprised look, but that's it."

The dog suddenly ran up to the three of them and Charlie shrieked, running away from the dog, hiding behind Shawn and Gus.

"Oh, Watch out! Watch out!" Gus called out, struggling to back up with Charlie hanging off his shoulders.

"Keep it away from me!" she said, paling at the sight of the big dog. She had a bad experience with a dog when she was a kid (which had been provoked by Shawn) and had been terrified of them every since.

Shawn laughed at the two of them, petting the dog.

"For what, its tongue?" Shawn asked the two of them, grinning.

"That thing could be vicious," Gus snapped.

"It could rip us apart with its teeth," Charlie whispered, still hiding behind Gus.

"Yeah, and diabolical with its calculated decoy tail-wagging," Shawn mocked them.

"There's blood on its whiskers," Gus noticed.

"Holy shit," Charlie whimpered. "Its killed someone!"

"That's not blood," Shawn scoffed. "That's Snausages."

"Are you sure?" Gus asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Shawn said. "It's either that or it swallowed a mountain lion. Come on, Gus. And Charlie, man up!"

"It's easy for you to say," Charlie whimpered. "You're the one that set that dog on me."

"Don't be a limp noodle, Charlie," Shawn scoffed as a policeman approached the three of them.

"Mr. Spencer, follow me," the officer asked.

Shawn turned to Gus and Charlie and said, "Now, if there's any press, make sure you mention our agency."

"We don't have an agency," Gus said.

"Yes, we do," Shawn explained. "I applied for a DBA online, which reminds me, we're gonna need a name. 'Mindmasters'? Already taken. Make sure you tell them that we do private cases, because I bet the department's only gonna be good for one or two a month."

"You tell them," Gus retorted childishly.

"I can't," Shawn whined. "I'm secretive, mysterious, enigmatic."

"Delusional," Gus said and Charlie nodded in agreement.

"Remember, act surprised," Shawn reminded them as the three of them entered the cabin. Charlie immediately wrinkled her nose at the smell that hit her nose and she couldn't believe that Shawn and Gus couldn't seem to smell it, especially with Gus' Super Sniffer.

"Wow, it is just like I saw before," Shawn said in mock-surprise. He turned and looked to see a dead man lying on the floor, blood leaking out from under him, and another dead man sitting at the table, holding a gun. Charlie looked at the scene with a mixture of excitement and revulsion, eyeing the two bodies in the cabin; they had found Camden and Malcolm.

"Pardon me, ladies, gentlemen," Gus said, before shoving Charlie out of the way to sprint outside, screaming like a little girl. Charlie sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'll get him," Charlie said, chasing after Gus to find him bent over, breathing deeply, sick on the ground. She rubbed his back, startling him. She slowly led him back to Lassiter's car and helped him in the backseat and let him lay his head in her lap.

"Poor Gus," she said, rubbing his head for him as he whimpered. She rolled her eyes at Shawn and Lassiter as they came to the car and they made the long drive back to SBPD. They all gathered in the Chief's office (Gus being recovered by then), the Chief commending them for closing the case. Charlie couldn't help but feel as if something were missing, something very obvious.

"The department has been approved to call on you again, Mr. Spencer," the Chief told him. "And even though this case didn't end up exactly the way we'd hoped…" She handed Shawn a check and extended her hand, which he shook. "I thank you for your services. You were invaluable."

She then shook Gus' hand and then Charlie's, who grinned at the Chief.

"Thank you," she told the pair of them.

"You're making a huge mistake," Shawn argued. "This case isn't closed."

"Pardon me?" the Chief asked.

"Murder/Suicide?" Shawn asked. "Come on, you're buying that?"

"I'm not buying anything. Those are the facts," the Chief said.

"I buy it," Gus said. Charlie elbowed him in the ribs, shaking her head at him. It wasn't over and she knew it. Somehow, her gut was telling her that the whole time.

"I don't," Charlie said, nodding at Shawn.

"Thank you," Shawn told his friend. "I understand. I do. You'd like to shut the book on this one quickly as possible. That's fine."

"They had a falling out," the Chief said.

"Before they go the ransom money?" Shawn asked. "Why? What did they have to fight about before they got the cash."

"Might I remind you, Mr. Spencer, you are not a detective," the Chief said.

"I just need to speak to the witness again," Shawn tried to reason with her.

"The McCallum family has been through enough, and this conversation is over," the Chief said, hinting at them to get out of her office.

"Thank you," Gus said. "We parked in the parking structure, do you validate?"

"Would it make any difference if I told you Camden McCallum, Jr. spoke to me? From beyond the grave," Shawn said, desperate to talk to the witness.

"Please, Chief Vick," Charlie asked her politely.

The Chief just ignored them as she validated Gus' parking ticket before saying, "Shut the door on your way out."

"Damn it," Shawn cried out as they left her office.

"We'll just have to investigate this on our own," Charlie growled out, crossing her arms.

"What are you two doing?" Gus hissed at them. "That was the Chief of Police."

"Interim Chief," Shawn corrected him. "And have you considered that Camden McCallum may have been alive the first time we went to that cabin?"

"No," Gus said, frowning at them.

"Well, I have!" Shawn said, watching as Mr. McCallum shook hands with Lassiter.

"Gus, there's something we're missing," Charlie said, trying to get him to see. "There's no way they died that way. I mean, they were best friends."

"I'm considering murdering you and Shawn," Gus hissed at her, only to receive an elbow to the gut.

"We need to talk to that guy," Shawn said, starting towards Mr. McCallum.

"Whoa, whoa, no!" Gus said, stopping Shawn from walking any further.

"Come on, Gus, just for a second," Shawn argued. "The man is practically almost my father-in-law."

"Make no mistake, Shawn, I will kill you," Gus threatened.

"And I'll help him," Charlie said, glaring at him. "And they'll never find your body."

"Okay, I appreciate the fact that you, Gus, think you can beat me up, but I think our last scuffle proves otherwise," Shawn said, letting out a snort.

"Are you talking about the Cinnamon Festival?" Gus asked in disbelief.

"Yes! You do remember," Shawn exclaimed.

"Okay, first of all, I was six," Gus said, "and I had a cast, which was Charlie's fault!"

"It wasn't my fault you stole my bike and I simply shoved you off to reclaim my stolen property," Charlie said, waving her hand like it was no big deal, to which Gus glared at her.

"Besides, many would constitute a cast as a clear advantage," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's like having a weapon attached to your arm. Besides, I'm much more terrified of Charlie than I am of you, Gus."

"You know that's right," Gus said, a stutter in his voice, stepping away from his best female friend.

"And let's keep it that way, boys," Charlie said cheerfully as Chief Vick pointed at them.

"Oh, great, now the Chief is staring right at us," Shawn said, distracting both Gus and Charlie, just long enough for him to slip away over to where Mr. McCallum was in the conference room.

"Oh, shit," Charlie growled after she realized she had been tricked. She grabbed Gus' arm, and despite his protest, pulled him over to where Detective Lucinda was guarding the conference room where Mr. McCallum was with Lassiter.

"Chief wants him left alone," Lucinda told Shawn, whom was looking over her shoulder into the conference room.

"Well, we all want to be left alone," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

"Yes, some more than others."

"What's with the wrist?" Shawn asked, indicating to the bandage wrapped around Mr. McCallum's wrist.

"You don't give up, do you?" Detective Lucinda asked, shaking her head in disbelief and a bit of awe.

"I do give up all the time," Shawn said, correcting her. "But not until the moment is right."

"Not when there's a murderer on the loose," Charlie added, crossing her arms and leaning against the stucco/tiled wall.

"She's right," Shawn said. "Now, come on, I know you don't think this adds up, either."

"Okay, rumor is, he tried to off himself," Detective Lucinda said, finally breaking.

"Off himself? The war hero? The man who's seen everything? No, that's not it. That's definitely not it." Shawn shook him head, disagreeing. Charlie was shocked for a moment before furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her own head. No, this man didn't try to commit suicide; Shawn was right, that wasn't it.

"You know everything, don't you?" Lucinda asked.

"Yeah, it's scary, isn't it?" Shawn asked, smirking as Charlie rolled her eyes at Gus, who snorted but covered it up as a cough. "Look, something is going on, and I'm gonna find out what it is."

At that particular moment, Lassiter left the conference room and barked out, "No, you're not going anywhere near that man. In fact, I'm gonna make certain you never hear from the department again."

"Whoa!" Shawn exclaimed, grabbing his head. "I'm getting strong vibrations that you might be wrong."

"I'm on to you," Lassiter snarled at the trio. "You've got a source somewhere and I'm gonna find it. You think this is some sort of game? I'm not gonna let you just waltz around here like some kid in a candy store."

"Let me be honest with you Detective," Shawn said, rather smugly, Charlie thought. "I used to work in a candy store and it's nothing like this."

"You're in over your head, mystic," Lassiter snapped before turning on heel and walking away.

"Or maybe you're in over yours, Detective," Charlie called out before leaving the station with Shawn and Gus, not even looking back at Lassiter's expression, which was equal parts confusion and rage.

-(*)-

Carlton Lassiter stared open-mouthed at the red-haired woman that had just smugly insulted him. She was about five-four, but more than made up for her shortness with her fiery temper that she had displayed the few times that he had run into her. It both infuriated him and strangely captivated (and he felt guilt at injuring her wrist). He had to admit that he had stared at her ass as she had left with Spencer and that other one (he couldn't be bothered to remember his name). He scowled as he shut down his unnatural thoughts immediately.

He just didn't see how a woman like that could be friends with Spencer. Maybe they were dating….

 _What the hell?_ he wondered to himself. Where had that come from and why the fuck did he even care? _Well, he didn't_ , he snarled to himself, storming back to his desk (he had been standing in the open, gaping like an idiot) to start one of his next open cases, putting the woman, Charlotte Matthews (he did a background check on her after meeting her), out of his mind.

-(*)-

Charlie stomped up the stairs to her apartment (the elevator was out of service) to get ready for her shift at the garage. After changing into her greasy work clothes and tying the sleeves of her coveralls around her waist, she called the library, apologizing for not making her shift that morning, coming up with the excuse that she was sick and had been sleeping on and off all day. She even used a weak, sick voice to throw off her boss, causing her to snort, which she covered up as a massive coughing fit. Satisfied that she wouldn't be losing her job, she went back downstairs, unlocking her bike, riding it down to Joe's garage, which was down near the boardwalk.

Before clocking in, she called Shawn and firmly told him (more like threatened to disembody him and bury him) that she was working, keep her informed on the case via text only, but under no circumstance were him and Gus to come and bug her at work, unless it was life or death (which she went over with him; he considered life or death very differently than she did). She made him repeat all of this back to her before she was satisfied and hung up.

Eight hours and a full engine overhaul later (as well as repairing a carburetor), Charlie headed home at ten p.m., exhausted. She planned on maybe heading to the gym that was around the corner from her apartment (to work on her kickboxing skills) and then taking a hot shower before finally going to bed. Those plans were futile, though.

Climbing up the four flights of stairs to her apartment, Charlie groaned at the sight of her door open just a crack. She pulled her Beretta M9 (she had swapped it out with her Glock; she owned many guns) but kept the safety on as she slowly pushed her door open. She (as silently as she could) shut the door and locked it behind her and stealthily entered her living room to find Shawn and Gus chowing down on her leftover chicken alfredo that she had planned on eating for dinner.

"For fucks sake!" she exclaimed. "Can't you just call like normal people? D'you really have to keep breaking into my apartment?"

"Is it breaking in if I had a copy of your key made?" Shawn asked smoothly.

"I don't think so," Gus said, taking another bite of food.

"Seriously?" Charlie growled, running a hand through her hair. "Okay, just tell me what you found (since you didn't bother to text me) before I start strangling you both. I have a feeling that Lassiter would let me off scot free. Hell, he may even give me a damn metal."

Both Shawn and Gus visibly gulped before Shawn (with Gus interrupting at certain points) told her that Katarina wasn't the murderer, but someone in that house had paid a ransom.

"My money's still on the dad," Charlie said, yawning as she stretched. She snatched the container of food from Shawn and Gus, finishing it off. "You guys can see yourselves out," she said, narrowing her eyes at them. She left the dirty dishes by the sink, knowing she'd get to them eventually and headed off to her bedroom. She shut her door before she changed, knowing good and well that the boneheads weren't going to leave (Shawn and Gus were making themselves comfy on her couches at that moment). She sighed and closed her eyes, snuggling under her blankets, and fell asleep, her dreams filled with a certain lanky detective.

-(*)-

The next morning (all her dreams forgotten), Charlie shuffled out into the living room, kicking Shawn and Gus awake. Gus gave a very girly shriek (much like he the previous day at seeing the bodies) before falling to the floor with an _oof_!

After fixing a breakfast of French toast, hash browns, and bacon, (and forcing Shawn and Gus to do the dishes and cleanup afterwards) Charlie retreated to her bedroom with her coffee (she never went a morning without it; she was a caffeine addict) and started getting ready for the day.

She put on a pair of black leather shorts and a Metallica tank top, as well as her military jacket that she loved. She had to dig for a bit, but she finally pulled out a pair of gladiator sandals (that she had only worn a handful of times). She then sat down at her vanity and started to apply makeup, which she rarely did, but since she had the day off from work, she thought, _what the_ _hell_. She finished brushing her hair and applying red lipstick and went back to the kitchen to find Gus finishing up the dishes and Shawn relaxing on the couch.

"Just leave them, Gus Gus," she said, rubbing his head affectionately, like she had when they were kids (the nickname had come from _Cinderella_ , which was her favorite Disney movie, but she refused to acknowledge it). She was in a very good mood that morning, choosing to ignore Gus' glare at the nickname, and eager to start. "Let's get this show on the road! Where to, Shawn?"

"I want to apologize to Katarina," Shawn said, a guilty look on his face.

"Good luck with that, but let's go anyways," Charlie said, grabbing her satchel. She let Shawn and Gus exit first and then locked her door behind her, giving Shawn a pointed look, knowing Gus only followed him. It had been the same all through their childhoods. Shawn led, Gus followed, and Charlie usually beat them for being idiots and tried to keep them in line.

"I'm telling you, there's no way Katarina's gonna talk to you," Gus told Shawn after they pulled up in front of the McCallum Estate, exiting the Blueberry.

"Yeah, well, I sort of lied about that part," Shawn admitted. "We're not here to see Katarina."

"Who are we here to see?" Gus asked in confusion.

"A murder suspect," Charlie said, catching on to Shawn's plan with a smirk as Mr. McCallum walked down the stairs to them.

"This is highly inappropriate, Mr. Spencer. The investigation is over," Mr. McCallum growled at them, eyeing them in distaste.

"What if they got the wrong man?" Shawn asked, watching Mr. McCallum's reaction closely.

"And who would the right man me?" Mr. McCallum asked.

"You," Shawn simply said.

Mr. McCallum sighed and led the trio through the house, showing them into his study. Charlie, having forgotten to do so the other day, snuck the photo of Bill out of her satchel and set it down discreetly as she walked past a shelf.

"Mr. McCallum, I didn't have anything to do with this," Gus said, trying to clear his name and Charlie elbowed him in the gut to shut him up, receiving a glare from him as he coughed.

"And I'm with Shawn on this. I think you're a guilty man, Mr. McCallum," Charlie snarled at the man.

"I killed my own son?" Mr. McCallum asked in disbelief.

"Makes you feel any better, I don't think you meant to," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders.

"You're not a detective. You're not even cops," Mr. McCallum snarled at them.

"You're right," Shawn admitted. "But Charlie's damn stubborn and I'm a psychic. And I saw the whole thing. I see a ransom drop. You're doing everything they ask, you didn't call the police, you're thinking of nothing but the security of your son. After all, what's $5 million to you? You're driving away. I can see it. Something strange happens. You recognize the car. You pass it on the hill. It's Malcolm Orso's. You've seen it hundreds of times at your house, ever since high school. Maybe it confirmed the suspicion that you already have. You know where they are. You know the cabin." Shawn broke off for a moment as he had another 'vision.' "He's making coffee. You didn't mean to kill him, did you? No, just knock him around a little bit, teach him a lesson, but he falls on the floor, he slams his head on the oak table. He's dead. You know he's dead. Orso walks in. Finds you. He's got a half-assed pistol, but he's no criminal. You know there's only one way to cover your tracks. You take care of him, too. Make it look like a suicide. Then, you come home, inform the police, and you wait. You wait for a ransom call that will never come. Police eat it up. It's easy to look shaken after all you've done. You might even be willing to take your own life. You have an overactive imagination."

Shawn took a breath after finishing his rant and Charlie put a hand on Gus' shoulder as he looked like he was going to vomit everywhere. He gave her a grateful look over his shoulder.

"Perhaps a side-effect of your gift," Mr. McCallum sneered.

"Shawn, we need to go," Gus said and Charlie wrinkled her nose at him.

"Not yet," Shawn said.

"I'm about to throw up on a Turkish carpet," Gus argued.

"No, you're not," Shawn retorted.

"It's in my esophagus," Gus whined.

"I think you should listen to him, Shawn," Charlie said, stepping back from a gagging Gus.

"The second door on the left, turn on the fan and flush," Shawn huffed as Gus darted out of the room.

"I will not have this incident rehashed over and over again," Mr. McCallum growled out.

"Well, that's too bad, then, isn't it?" Charlie sneered at the man.

"Now, see here," Mr. McCallum shouted at her. "You can't just come in here and make accusations like that."

"Well, I just did, didn't I?" Charlie retorted. Shawn put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down before turning back to Mr. McCallum.

"I know what your relationship was with your son," Shawn told him.

"Oh, really," Mr. McCallum scoffed.

"I have a father that I disappoint all the time," Shawn said and Charlie snorted at that understatement, causing Shawn to throw a glare at her.

"I'm sure you do," Mr. McCallum said, eyeing Shawn.

"I know how you feel," Shawn said. "This is it. This was the straw that broke the camel's back, wasn't it? To think, eighteen months ago, he sat across from you, looked you right in the eye and said, 'Dad, I'm gonna clean up my act this time. This time I'm gonna change, I swear.' To know that he duped you and you fell for it all over again, must've sent you into a state that even you can't believe."

"Mr. Spencer," Mr. McCallum said, getting up from his chair, "I've been assured by the Lieutenant Governor that this case will not cast a pall over my family, but I can assure you, it's gonna cast one over yours.:

"My very first case and I'm already being threatened. Wow!" Shawn exclaimed.

"Well, you're not doing you're job right if you didn't get threatened," Charlie chuckled.

"Shawn, let's go," Gus said, entering the room.

"I'm not quite finished," Shawn argued.

"We're going, now," Gus said, indicating to Charlie that she help him drag Shawn out, if need be.

"Listen to your friend," Mr. McCallum threatened.

"I'll be back," Shawn said, as Gus pulled him out of the room.

"No, you won't," Mr. McCallum said smugly.

"Let's get one thing clear, Mr. McCallum," Charlie snarled at him as Gus pulled Shawn out of the house. "Anything happens to Shawn and you'll have to answer to me. Just to let you know, I carry a gun on me at all times. Wouldn't want an accident to happen, now would we?"

She gave him a sweet and innocent smile as he sputtered and left the house to the Blueberry.

"It wasn't the right track," Gus was telling Shawn as she caught up with them.

"Oh, you're the expert now?" Shawn scoffed at Gus.

"Don't be rude," Charlie scolded Shawn, smacking his arm, making him cry out, 'Ow!'

"Thank you," Gus told Charlie and then turned to Shawn. "Consumine."

"What?" Shawn asked in confusion; Charlie was also confused as to what Gus was saying.

"Consumine," Gus repeated. "It's for dog bites. I have some samples."

"What about it?" Charlie asked Gus, crossing her arms.

"Yes, Gus, what are you saying to us?" Shawn asked.

"I'm saying there was a bottle of it in the medicine cabinet, prescribed Wednesday," Gus said smugly. "You wonder why he had on that long-sleeved shirt in the heat that first day?"

"Oh, my gosh!" Shawn exclaimed. "That dog did have blood on its teeth."

"I told you it wasn't Snausages," Gus said.

"And I told you both that dogs are evil," Charlie said, shuddering.

"You didn't say that," Gus said in confusion.

"Fine, then I was thinking it," Charlie growled.

"We're never getting back in there," Gus said as they sat in the car, watching the house.

"It doesn't help that I threatened him for threatening Shawn," Charlie admitted.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you to say," Shawn cooed at her and then told Gus, "Just give me a second."

"What are you doing?" Gus asked as Shawn closed his eyes and put his fingers on his temple.

"I'm thinking," Shawn said.

"You look ridiculous," Gus said and Charlie snorted in agreement. Shawn whipped out his cell phone, then. Charlie looked closely at the phone and realized that it was hers. She patted down her pockets and came up empty.

"I picked your pocket in the house," Shawn told her, seeing her scowl.

"Now what are you doing?" Gus asked, sighing.

"Calling the cops," Shawn said.

"You heard the guy in there," Gus said incredulously. "They're never gonna come."

"I'm not calling the cops on him," Shawn explained. "I'm calling the cops on us. Gus, Charlie, we need this to play out in front of an audience, with all the major players in place."

"Santa Barbara Police Department," a woman on the phone answered.

Shawn lowered his voice and said, "Yes, hello. I'm calling from the McCallum residence. There's an intruder here. He simply won't leave. He's claiming to be a psychic that works for your department."

"Pardon me?" the woman asked as Shawn indicated at Charlie to say something.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so scared!" Charlie said in a high pitched, very girly (and very unlike her) voice. "They're so creepy!"

"Mr. McCallum is enraged and he wants this handled by the highest authority possible. Please send the Chief immediately."

"Nice job," Charlie commented when Shawn hung up and then handed her phone back to her.

"Thanks, you, too," Shawn grinned and then addressed Gus, "Did you really vomit?"

"Ew, Shawn," Charlie said, wrinkling her nose. "I don't think we really need to know that."

"And no, Shawn, it was just a ruse to investigate," Gus said in a matter-of-fact tone. The trio sat silently as they waited for the police to show up, which, eventually, they did. Charlie knew what was going to happen as they got out of the car and she was right as Lassiter and Lucinda immediately marched over and arrested the three of them.

"Not how I like to use handcuffs, Detective," Charlie smirked at Lassiter, who flushed a bright pink.

"S-Shut up!" he stuttered and then turned to slap handcuffs on Shawn, saying, "Yeah, it's times like this I remember why I love my job so much."

"Anytime, Shawn," Gus hissed at Shawn, uncomfortable in his handcuffs.

"He's getting cocky, give it a sec," Shawn said.

"We're gonna be a city jail in a sec," Gus retorted.

"Yeah, I'd really like to not go to jail, Shawn," Charlie said to Shawn, not really bothered, knowing that they would get out this jam in a few minutes.

"Uh-huh," Lassiter smirked. "Here we are."

Lassiter led Shawn over to a squad car, banging his head as he went to force Shawn in the backseat.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lassiter mock-apologized. "Did that hurt?"

"Aaah!" Shawn exclaimed, jerking around like he was having a seizure, having a 'vision.' "Something's happening. Gus! Charlie! Something's happening!"

"He's having a vision!" Charlie gasped in 'surprise', causing a very fleeting look of astonishment to cross Shawn's face before he resumed his 'vision.'

"Stop it!" Lassiter growled. Shawn weaseled his way out of Lassiter's grip and fell to the lawn, jerking around in his handcuffs. If Charlie would have had a free hand, she would have slapped a palm to her face; he looked so ridiculous.

"The dog!" Shawn exclaimed, making Charlie pale slightly at the mention of the beast (she would never forgive Shawn for mentally scarring her for the rest of her life).

"Shut up," Lassiter scowled, trying to grab Shawn's arm again.

"He's biting the intruder," Shawn gasp. "He knows him. It's someone he knows! The dog knows him!"

"Stop talking," Lassiter snarled.

"Ouch! Ouch! The teeth are digging in!" Shawn yelled out, causing Charlie to whimper in fear, her eyes darting around, making sure the dog was nowhere in sight.

"Shut up!" Lassiter shouted.

"Now there's blood!" Shawn said and Gus looked a little sick. Lassiter pulled Shawn up from the lawn as Shawn let out a scream and Lassiter had to half carry/half shove Shawn back to the car, but didn't quite make it before Shawn had another outburst.

"It's him, it's McCallum!" Shawn cried out, fighting Lassiter. "I can see his face! The killer is McCallum! Check his wrist! Check his right wrist! The teeth marks will match up!"

"Get him out of here!" Mr. McCallum yelled at the Chief.

"Check the wrist!" Shawn yelled again.

"No one is checking any part of me!" Mr. McCallum scowled.

"Why not?" the Chief asked and Charlie smirked at the man's idiocy, momentarily forgetting her fear of dogs (but still keeping an eye out, just in case).

"Huh?" Mr. McCallum asked in confusion.

"We could close this out immediately, discredit him right here," the Chief said, raising an eyebrow at the man. "That's an awful would you have bandaged there."

"This is outrageous!" Mr. McCallum cried out, insulted. "Do you really want to do this?"

"I could do this now or I could call in a warrant," the Chief threatened.

"I'll call my lawyer," Mr. McCallum retorted.

"I'll be right here," the Chief said, smirking.

"I'm seeing a doctor! I'm seeing a doctor, Dr. Mandali, and a word, 'Consumine!' Yeah, it's for dog bites! The wound is fresh! Check the wound! It's a fresh wound, it's still a fresh wound!" Shawn screamed out. Charlie knew that if he hadn't been in handcuffs, his fingers would be at his head as he had his 'vision.' There was a slight pause before:

"It was an accident, I didn't…" Mr. McCallum stammered out his admission.

"What?" Lassiter asked in disbelief, pausing with his trying to shove Shawn to the squad car.

"Sergeant," the Chief ordered and an officer stepped forward saying, "This way, sir."

Charlie grinned at Gus as the officer slapped handcuffs of Mr. McCallum. Gus returned the smile before turning to Detective Lucinda and said, "You wanna take these cuffs off of us, please?"

"Yes, please take them off," Charlie begged, her wrists hurting her.

"Thank you," Gus told Detective Lucinda.

"How 'bout it, Detective?" Charlie asked Lassiter, smirking at him. He flushed as he unlocked her handcuffs. "My thanks, Detective," she purred to him, giving a cackle as he stuttered before walking away her. He was just too easy to mess with; not to mention very sexy, in her opinion. Gus looked away from her, very uncomfortable (she had forgotten he was even there).

"Oh, lighten up, Gus," Charlie scowled at him, smacking his arm. "I am allowed to have fun, you know."

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it in front of me," Gus said uncomfortably before also walking away. Charlie glared at him before crossing her arms, proud of Shawn (though she'd never admit it to him; his ego was too big already).

"Seriously, how?" Detective Lassiter asked Shawn in equal parts awe and annoyance, standing by the 'psychic.'

"I wish I knew," Shawn said, shrugging, enraging the detective even further. He gave the three of them another glare (he gave Charlie an especially dark glare) and stormed away to join the Chief, who was leaving with the murderer.

"Do you think this pretty much ruins my chances with Katarina?" Shawn asked Gus and Charlie a hopeful look on his face.

"Shut up, you moron," Charlie growled at him, smacking the back of his head, making him wince and hiss, ' _ouch_!'

-(*)-

The next few days returned to normal for Charlie (going from the library to the garage every day and making very random stops by the gym when she had the time), which didn't involve running around, chasing a murderer. She found the article in the paper (which had excluded both hers and Gus' names, as they weren't as important) and cut it out, sticking it in a drawer in her kitchen for safe-keeping.

Three days later, Shawn stopped by her apartment (with Gus driving the Blueberry), claiming he had something important that he really needed to show her and Gus. Shawn took over driving (as Gus didn't know where they were going and Shawn refused to tell him) and drove them to a piece of beachfront property, showing them a building that said 'Psych- Private Psychic Detective' on the front window.

"Awesome!" Shawn exclaimed as Gus and Charlie looked at the building in confusion.

"What the hell is it?" Charlie asked, crossing her arms.

"'Psych'?" Gus asked incredulously. "As in gotcha?"

"Or as in psychic," Shawn explained. Charlie looked around as they entered the building, disappointed at the size of it; it was no bigger than a closet with only a desk and a folding chair inside.

"You named your fake detective agency 'Psych'? Why don't you just call it 'Hey, we're fooling you and the police department. Hope we don't make a mistake and someone dies because of it'."

"You know, Gus kinda does have a point," Charlie pointed out to Shawn. "And it's tiny."

"First of all, Gus, Charlie, that name is entirely too long, it would never fit on the window," Shawn said.

"Irrelevant," Charlie pointed out, glaring at Shawn.

"And secondly," Shawn said, ignoring Charlie's comment (which she scowled at), "the best way to convince people you're not lying to them, is to tell them you are! And Charlie, I plan to expand as soon as I can."

"Whatever, Shawn," Gus scoffed. "It's your agency, go for it."

"Actually, it's our agency," Shawn revealed to them.

"What?" Charlie asked in a flat voice as Shawn showed her and Gus a piece of paper.

"I put both of your names on the lease as well," Shawn said. "Tell me, does that look anything like either of your signatures? I gave it a shot."

"This better be a joke," Gus snapped, reading over the paper with Charlie reading over his shoulder.

"Seriously, Shawn?" Charlie snarled, instantly pissed off. "What the fuck?! I can barely afford my apartment and groceries. I can't pay for a building lease!"

"Don't worry, you won't have to do a thing," Shawn said in a soothing voice, trying to calm Charlie down. "I've worked out every last detail. And you won't have to pay a dime, Charlie; I've got it all fixed already. Gus will pay for you."

"I will?" Gus asked, not liking that at all.

"Well, yeah, you make more money than she does, dude," Shawn said and Gus bobbed his head in agreement.

"Thanks, Gus," Charlie said, giving him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which he winced at.

"What's your dental plan?" Gus asked, rubbing his arm in pain.

"Don't get cavities," Shawn said, shrugging.

"Health plan?" Gus asked.

"Same, but with hepatitis and shingles," Shawn said.

"So, Charlie and I are supposed to quit our jobs, skip over and do this for no guaranteed money," Gus asked in disbelief.

"No guaranteed money, but all guaranteed fun," Shawn said.

"No!" Gus exclaimed. "No more cases, Shawn. It was fun for a few days."

"As much as I love solving mysteries, I agree with Gus," Charlie said apologetically to Shawn. "I can't quit my jobs; I'd be homeless if I did."

"Well, it's gonna have to be fun for a minimum of six months, or we'll have to pay a lease penalty, which would be a blemish on your otherwise very impressive credit report, Gus. And money you don't even have, Charlie."

"I will hurt you, Shawn," Charlie growled at him, taking a step towards him. He shrank back slightly, before clearing his throat.

"You solved one mystery and now you're renting office space?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's a bit overkill," Charlie said, sitting on the desk that was in the room, crossing her legs.

"Gus, Charlie, I've solved a bunch of mysteries," Shawn said. "For instance, the mystery of who kept stealing your newspapers, Gus. Answer: me! The mystery of who kept egging your bedroom window, Charlie. Again, answer: me! The mystery of what the three of us are doing this weekend. Hint, it involves dragsters, and finally, the mystery that is the case the Chief just brought me in on."

"You got another case already?" Gus asked, surprised, instantly forgiving (or just not registering) what Shawn had said. Charlie didn't, though, and planned on retaliating.

"A car thief got poisoned by his boss," Shawn explained. "He used something over the counter. Fizadine. No, Fizaderbal. No…uh…"

"Fizadrine?" Gus asked.

"That's it!" Shawn said happily.

"Wow," Gus said, getting into it. "How'd he do that?"

"I'll tell you on the way," Shawn said.

"Just for today, right?" Gus asked.

"Absolutely," Shawn said. "Charlie?"

"Well, I have today off, so count me in," she said, giving in, knowing Shawn would just whine and beg until she did so. Also, she was pretty excited about solving another case.

 _Hmm,_ she thought. _Maybe I should write a book or start a blog…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Salt and Pepper: Chapter Two**

Two weeks after solving their first case (and their second; it was the wife that had poisoned the race car drive, whom was also her husband, for his life insurance money—it had been very boring), Charlie found herself using every spare moment she could (which was usually spent at the gym) over at Psych, fixing up their new office space to attract clients. Shawn had somehow gotten a deal on the space next door (he refused to tell Gus and her how) and had knocked down a viewing window and a doorway in the joining wall, opening it up. Well, Charlie had done all of the work herself (she had done construction for a couple years, having no other option {after she had worked at the pound and before her jobs at the library and the garage}) because she knew that Shawn and Gus were useless when it came to actual work.

Two weeks in and she had the doorway (Gus had thrown a fit about wanting to have separate office space and waiting area) and window complete (with the shudders installed; Shawn had insisted) and most of the painting was done; she just had some touching up to do. Charlie decided that since Shawn and Gus weren't helping her with the remodeling, she was choosing the paint colors and she had gone with a cream for the walls and a nice sage green for the wood paneling that covered the bottom half of the walls, as well as cream for the trim and ceiling. Just another day of painting and the furniture that she had ordered (she had taken Gus' credit card out his wallet; well, more like pick-pocketed him) could be moved in.

Despite acting like she didn't care (which was just her personality), Charlie was pretty excited about doing Psych as a sort of side business. She belted out Def Leppard _Rock of Ages_ while she focused on painting the trim, which was proving to be challenging. No matter, though; she'd conquer it.

Shawn and Gus hadn't bothered to show up, both afraid that Charlie would put them to work, which she would have. Instead, the only help she had was from Henry (Shawn's dad), which consisted of letting her borrow his truck and telling her when Home Depot closed.

-(*)-

 **One week later…**

Charlie rode her bike the three blocks from Joe's garage, just after her shift, to Psych, excited to see the new furniture that had arrived that the day before. She had picked out a beautiful grey couch that also had built in recliners and two sitting chairs, as well as a gorgeous coffee table that was painted a vintage white. She had been too busy the last week to do much at Psych; vacationers and people in town for the National Spelling Bee (which she thought was lame) kept breaking down for some reason (well, it was idiots that didn't take care of their vehicles).

Jumping off her bike before it was at a full stop (done with a smirk because she thought it was pretty cool that she didn't fall and skin her face), she chained it up to the palm tree outside of the office, before entering said office. She paused in the small outer office/waiting room, admiring her work before going through the doorway to their personal office. She immediately stopped, her jaw dropping.

"What the hell?!" she shrieked, looking around in shock, instantly pissed off. Her couch, chairs, and table were nowhere in sight. Instead, there were three very ugly chairs and two chunky desks filling up the space. The place was already a mess, too; trash littering the floor. Gus held the remote to the TV, his mouth gaping as he took in her furious expression.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Shawn asked, holding his bike of all things in the middle of the office.

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Charlie growled, taking a menacing step towards him, causing him to take a step back in fear and gulp audibly. "Where's the furniture I ordered? This place looks like a total mess of a man cave!"

"Well, seeing as there's two of us and only one woman, which is you, Gus and I decided to return it and buy our own," Shawn said, gaining some courage.

"That was all you, Shawn," Gus snapped at his friend. "I told you not to return it, even if it was on my credit card, which I didn't mind. I said Charlie would get mad."

"Oh, I am way past mad, Burton Guster," Charlie threatened. "You two do know that I carry a gun, right?"

"We are aware," Shawn stuttered.

"Alright, then," Charlie said, taking a breath before glaring at the two of them. "I don't care that you two pay the lease for this place; I did all the damn work and this place will look the way _I_ want it to. You will return this shit and reorder my couch, chairs, and table. You will also order a rug—color must be approved by me—and if it isn't completed by next week, you two will find yourselves in six-foot deep graves out in the woods, where no one will ever find you. Get this done and maybe, just maybe, I'll order you some proper desks."

Shawn and Gus were pale by the time she finished and ignoring them, she huffed and sat down in one of the ugly chairs, which were pointed at the television.

"What are you watching, Gus?" Charlie asked and Gus squeaked, turning the TV back on to the coverage of the National Spelling Bee.

"Seriously?" Charlie groaned. "This is so lame!"

"Let's recap this morning's unexpected high drama…" the announcer stated.

"It's being held in Santa Barbara this year, down at the Cabrillo. It's huge. Sold out," Gus told them, his voice shaky at the look Charlie gave him.

"Yeah, I know," Charlie growled out. "All those morons don't take care of their cars and I've been fixing them this last week."

"All the experts are shaking their heads," the announcer said in bewilderment.

"I tried to get tickets but you got to know somebody," Gus said, pouting.

"Somebody lame," Shawn said.

"Agreed," Charlie said, rubbing her temples to try and get rid of her headache.

"Dude, I can't believe you're watching that," Shawn said, walking to his desk.

"I'm taping it and I don't care what you think, Shawn, Charlie," Gus sneered, forgetting his fear of Charlie as he passionately defended the Spelling Bee. "I watch the bee semis every year."

"Okay for your sake and mine, stop giving the Spelling Bee hip little nicknames," Shawn said and Gus shushed him.

"Where's my desk, Shawn?" Charlie asked suddenly as the announcer droned on about something.

"Oh, it's that one out there," Shawn said, pointing to the reception desk in the waiting room.

"So I'm going to be the fucking secretary?" Charlie growled at him.

"Well, you are a woman," Shawn pointed out.

"So?" Charlie asked, her hands on her hips.

"I'd stop while I was ahead, Shawn," Gus said nervously, never taking his eyes off of the TV screen.

"Yes, Shawn, listen to Gus," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes. "And maybe I'll think about it. Just don't pull any more of that sexist crap."

"Okay," Shawn said, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Now, shh!" Gus hissed at the two of them.

"For those of you who have just joined us, well, a bit of a shock….and a little sad, too," the announcer on the TV said. "The heavy favorite has had a bad spell, and Brendan Vu is out."

"What?!" Gus exclaimed in shock.

"Don't care," Charlie said, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair and an arm over her eyes.

"Boo-hoo for Vu, Bud," the announcer said and Charlie snorted at the announcer's lack of caring for a child. Had Charlie been married, she would've already had a child or two; she loved kids.

"No way," Gus said, shocked. "Brendan Vu is out? Already?"

"Okay, now you're just scaring me," Shawn said, eyeing Gus.

"Ditto," Charlie said. "You need to get a life, Gus."

"Come on, Shawn, Charlie," Gus reasoned with them. "He took second last year. Everybody knows that."

"I didn't," Charlie mumbled, ready to take a cat nap (she was exhausted from working long hours the last week).

"She's right, Gus, nobody knows that, except for Brendan and his mother," Shawn said.

"Okay," Gus agreed.

"We're going to show this again," the announcer said, running a replay on the screen. "It looks like young Mr. Vu may be having trouble breathing. He does look to be under some sort of duress, Bud. His inhaler did not appear to help and Vu tumbled to the floor…"

"Dang!" Gus exclaimed, holding a fist to his mouth.

"Paramedics rushed to the scene, and within moments, the competition had taken an unexpected turn," the announcer announced.

"Wait a second," Shawn input, walking over and picking up the remote. Charlie groaned and opened her eyes, looking at the TV screen. "Did you see that?"

"I thought we didn't care, Shawn," Charlie yawned out.

"That was before," Shawn said. "This was no accident. There's something wrong with that inhaler."

"Shawn, get out of here," Gus said, snatching back the remote, resuming play. Charlie sat up straight, immediately alert and concerned for the kid that had gotten hurt. Nobody fucked with a kid like that and got away with it; she'd make sure of it.

"For 35 minutes, competition was suspended," the announcer said. The phone rang and Shawn indicated for Charlie to answer it. She scowled at him for getting her to do the secretarial shit, but picked up the phone anyways.

"Psych, this is Charlie speaking," she said, sounding as bored as she possibly could.

"This is Chief Vick; may I speak to Mr. Spencer, please?"

"Sure," Charlie said before yelling out, "Shawn, phone!"

Shawn gave her an exasperated look (he was three feet away from her and rubbing his ears from her yelling), to which she stuck out her tongue and mouthed, 'not your secretary.'

"Psych," Shawn said into the phone and then hissed to Gus (since Charlie already knew), "It's the Chief." He then resumed speaking to the Chief, saying, "Well, I'll have to check with Gus and Charlie." He then addressed Gus and Charlie, "Are we available?" And back to the Chief again, "It appears we are. We'll be right there."

"What?" Gus asked as Shawn hung up the phone.

"Yes, what did you just volunteer us for, Shawn?" Charlie asked, flopping back into her seat. She appeared flippant on the outside, but inside, she was eager to nail the guy or gal that had tried to kill a kid.

"I can get us into the spelling bee," Shawn said.

"Really?" Gus asked, excited. Charlie groaned, her very nice day off disappearing in smoke. Speaking of smoke….Charlie eyed her purse, which held her carton of Menthols that were her favorite.

"Guess I was right about the whole Bandon Dunes thing," Shawn said smugly.

"Brendan Vu," Gus corrected him.

"Sure," Shawn said, not really listening.

"They need a psychic detective for that?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Not likely," Charlie said, groaning and standing to her feet again, mentally preparing herself to leave. She picked up her satchel and slung it across her body and ran a hand through her hair.

"They don't…unless he was sabotaged," Shawn answered. "The kid said his inhaler felt funny. When he used it, his hand stung. The paramedics get there, there's no inhaler. Apparently, the thing just vanished into thin air…"

Gus jumped up from his seat and grabbed his jacket off of his desk and exclaimed, "Shawn, Charlie, we are so taking this. Let's go." And with that, he headed out the door to the Blueberry with Shawn and Charlie trailing behind him, not as excited.

"How come I can't get you this excited about girls?" Shawn asked.

"Let's go, Shawn!" Gus yelled over his shoulder.

"Or Mexico?"

"Move your ass out of my way, Shawn!" Charlie growled at him. Shawn just gave her a look before taking off in a sprint, throwing himself into the passenger seat. "You are such a child, Shawn!"

Charlie was still grumbling as they pulled up at the Cabrillo Theatre twenty minutes later. She scowled and shuffled her feet along as Shawn and Gus rushed out of the car to meet with Chief Vick, whom was leaving the building.

"We're here!" Shawn said to her.

"Go on in, Mr. Spencer," the Chief said, rubbing her very pregnant belly. Charlie winced, knowing the Chief must've been tired, having to keep doing her job while being nearly ready to pop. "I've arranged everything you need inside."

"You're leaving?" Shawn asked.

"I was only here for the Mayor's presentation and we have a robbery standoff across town," the Chief told him.

"Don't worry, Chief," Charlie assured her. "I'll keep these two boneheads in line."

"Hey!" Gus cried out, unfairly looped in the same category as Shawn.

"I'm sure you will," Chief Vick smirked at Charlie.

"Shouldn't I go to the hospital, meet the victim, get a statement?" Shawn asked in confusion.

"Mr. Spencer, the case is sabotage," the Chief said, raising an eyebrow at him. "There are forty-three remaining contestants, all presumably, with a motive. Now, you can read guilt just by talking with someone, right? Do it."

"Do you want us to talk to all of them?" Shawn asked and Charlie sighed at his stupidity; for such a genius, he could be so stupid.

"And their parents," Chief Vick said.

"Mainly the grouchy, overprotective parents that put their children through the humiliation if they lose," Charlie said, scowling. Spelling Bees were just not fun; they were quite pointless and stupid, in her opinion.

"Today?" Gus asked, his eyes wide.

"By 5 o'clock," Chief Vick said. "In two days, this whole thing is over. At that time, all the witnesses will be in a hundred different cities all over the western United States, so it's now or never. Good luck."

"We'll need it," Charlie sighed as the Chief walked to her car. Gus slapped Shawn and Charlie on their backs, with Charlie glaring daggers at him, and headed into the theatre, grinning like a buffoon (in Charlie's opinion). _Well_ , she thought, _at least someone's happy to be here_. She and Shawn followed after their friend rather reluctantly, Charlie remembering the day that Shawn had sabotaged Gus' Spelling Bee.

-(*)-

 **1989**

"30 seconds, Mr. Guster," the moderator informed a young Gus, whom was standing front and center on the stage during their middle school Spelling Bee. Charlie and Shawn were in the audience, both of them mouthing the letters to Gus as he attempted to spell 'Aggiornamento.'

"A…G….G…" Gus stuttered through the letters. "Let me start over. 'Aggiornamento.' A…G…G….O?"

Charlie elbowed Shawn hard in the ribs (hard enough to bruise him for the next week and a half; Henry congratulated her) as she realized that he gave Gus the wrong letter on purpose. She had been mouthing 'I', but of course, as usual, Gus chose to take Shawn's advice over hers. The moderator buzzed Gus out and Gus threw his hands up in disgust before storming off the stage.

-(*)-

 **Present Day**

Charlie wrinkled her nose in disgust as she, Gus, and Shawn walked down to the first row in the theatre. A little girl was on the stage, looking slightly nervous and Charlie wondered if she had stage fright.

"Aww," she commented, thinking the little girl was so cute, smiling gently. Shawn and Gus looked at each other in confusion at the softer side of Charlie, before said woman caught herself and toughened up.

"Can you repeat that, please?" the little girl asked.

"'Butyraceous'," the Spellmaster told her.

"Definition, please?" the girl asked.

"Adjective. Having the characteristics of butter."

"This thing's been sold out for weeks," Gus told Shawn and Charlie, looking like a kid at Christmas.

"I can see why," Shawn said sarcastically. "It moves to fast. It's like hockey with words."

"Oh, so witty, Shawn," Charlie teased him, smirking.

Gus pointed to a small booth that sat in the upper floor where the Spellmaster gave out the words and said, "That's Elvin Cavanaugh, the greatest spell champion ever. He's been the Spellmaster for fourteen years. He's a legend."

"Do we really have to sit and watch this?" Charlie groaned out as they all took seats, watching the Spelling Bee.

"Yes, Charlie, we do," Gus said passionately.

"Wow," Shawn said, once again sarcastically. "He sits up there all by himself in that fancy box? What is he, the phantom of the opera?"

"That makes Gus Christine," Charlie joked, making Shawn chuckle and Gus scowl.

"He's a huge celebrity," Gus said, glaring at Shawn and Charlie, who weren't taking him seriously. "He can't just sit in the crowd."

"Can you repeat the word?" the girl asked once again.

"'Butyraceous'."

"'Butyraceous'?" the girl asked.

"Oh, come on, dude," Shawn sighed to Gus. "You're not bored at all?"

"I am," Charlie growled, wishing she could put her feet up.

"Do either of you know how to spell any of these words?" Gus snarled at them.

"Is there a point to it?" Charlie asked.

"She's right," Shawn said. "And proudly, I've never heard of any of these words. I file these words under 'things to say when I want to be ridiculed or kicked out of bed'."

"Or just kicked in the balls," Charlie said.

"Exactly," Shawn grinned at Charlie, who snorted.

"See," Gus said, ignoring everything they were saying, "the problem is that 'butyraceous' is clearly a round one word."

"Or an I-couldn't-give-a-fuck word," Charlie said, grinning as Gus glared daggers at her. The expression _if looks could kill_ came to her mind and she smirked at Gus, as if challenging him to try.

"She's right," Shawn groaned out. "Stop talking. I'd like to pretend that Charlie and I still have something in common with you, Gus."

"Ain't that the truth," Charlie sniggered, as the pair of them laughed at Gus' expense.

"Well, instead of sitting here, maybe we should get to work," Gus growled out before getting up and stalking away.

"Aww, maybe we should be more careful about his very delicate feelings," Charlie snorted out, trying to hold in her giggles.

"Maybe," Shawn smirked to her. He helped Charlie out of her seat and linked her arm through his as they followed after a fuming Gus.

After finding Mrs. Foote, the woman in charge of practically everything, they informed her that they were consultants with the police and asked if they could have a look around. She showed the trio to the prop room, which doubled as a very comfortable-looking sitting room.

"Try not to break anything," Mrs. Foote snapped at them, not at all happy to take time out of her busy schedule to assist them. She stayed by them, not wanting to leave them on their own, leaving no chance for them to mess this up for her.

"So this is what it looks like," Gus said, looking around in awe.

"What?" Shawn and Charlie asked simultaneously, Shawn in confusion, Charlie in disbelief.

"The comfort room," Gus said, as if it elaborated anything. "This is where you go to deal with missing a word."

"Oh, yeah?" Shawn asked, snorting. "Where do they take you to deal with missing you entire childhood?"

"Or your whole life in general," Charlie smirked and high-fived Shawn.

"Shawn, Charlie, this misplaced malevolence you have with the Spelling Bee is getting monotonous," Gus snapped out at his 'friends.' "Stop hating on the Bee." He turned to Mrs. Foote, whom was getting more and more annoyed with the trio by the second. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I do apologize for their inappropriate virulence."

"Why are you using all these big-ass words all of a sudden?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow at Gus.

"Yeah, they're unavailing and futile," Charlie said, smirking at Gus when his eyes bugged at her. "See? You're not the only one that knows, as Shawn puts it, the big-ass words, Gus."

"I'm not doing that," Gus tried to defend himself. "That's preposterous. I was in the Spelling Bee myself. I almost won."

"Are you still on that?" Shawn asked, whining like a little kid.

"Of course I'm still on it," Gus snarled. "I knew it wasn't 'o'."

"Well, if you would listen to me once in a while, instead of Shawn," Charlie growled at Gus.

"Well, if listening to you hadn't gotten me hurt more than once, I would have," Gus snapped back, glaring at Charlie before she broke down into giggles, slapping a hand over her mouth.

"You may have five minutes with each contestant, no more," Mrs. Foote said, exasperated by their childishness. "If the room is needed, you will be asked to vacate. I'll begin with the eliminated contestants."

"Um, actually, we'd only like to speak with the ones that were still in the competition when the accident occurred…." he paused for a moment to read her nametag, "…Ms…..Foote….and, let's start with the shifty-eyed ones, shall we?"

"They're the ones who will be most likely guilty," Charlie said, smirking. Mrs. Foote just rolled her eyes and left the room. Charlie made herself comfortable on the couch, plopping her feet on the coffee table in front of her. Shawn and Gus sat on either side of her and she threw and arm around each of her best friends, in a strangely good mood.

Mrs. Foote returned, bringing a young Indian boy and his mother into the room, having them take a seat in the two armchairs facing the sofa the trio was sitting on.

"Hello, what's you're name?" Charlie asked the little boy (she loved little kids and couldn't wait to have one of her own, someday).

"Tom," he said, smiling at the strange woman that was grinning at him.

"And how old are you, Tom?" she asked.

"Eight," he replied.

"And you were there the whole time?" Shawn jumped in, asking Tom.

"I was," Tom said, not as happy to talk to the two men; he'd rather talk to the pretty lady.

"Assimilation," Tom's mother said, pushing the boy to keep practicing.

"A-s-s-i-m-i-l-a-t-i-o-n," Tom spelled out. "Assimilation."

Charlie smirked as Shawn held up his hands in total disbelief. She thanked Tom and his mother (Anna) as they left the room, Anna throwing Tom more words to spell the whole way.

"Could be worse," Charlie told Shawn. "We could be at Toddlers and Tiaras."

Shawn barely managed to get the look of horror off of his face as the next contestant, a young boy with a Russian accent, and his father sat down. Charlie started asking the same questions to the boy (Jiri, age ten), before Shawn could ask the questions that would most likely offend.

"My son…on one expect him to come this far, but he surprise everyone," the father (Miklos) said in slightly broken English with a heavy accent, staring at his son proudly. "You watch him win."

"Oh, I don't know," Shawn inputted. "Are they running odds on this thing now? Because I got some cash I'd like to lay down on the really, really tall girl with the bulldog underbite. What, is she on stilts?"

"Don't be an asshat, Shawn," Charlie growled out, elbowing him in the ribs. Shawn's laugh was cut short as he gasped at the sudden painful contact.

"You do not understand," Miklos scowled at Shawn. "This contest, it is money for scholarship. It is entry into any school in the future."

"Yeah, Shawn," Gus said, rubbing it in his friend's face. "The winner of this competition can just about choose his university."

"Your friend is right," Miklos said.

"That's something you don't hear everyday," Charlie hissed under her breath to Shawn, who snorted, covering it up as a cough.

"And it teaches grace under pressure, poise, dignity…" Gus said, a dreamy look in his eyes; and then it disappeared when Shawn opened his mouth.

"All thing you can get at a hot dog eating competition," Shawn said, grinning at Jiri. "Plus…hot dogs."

"Oh, come on, Shawn," Charlie snorted. "You don't get any of those at a hot dog eating contest. I think you're thinking of ballet, which is very graceful and full of poise."

She winked at Jiri, who smiled shyly at her. Charlie thanked Jiri and Miklos and introduced her self to Alice (age nine) and her mother Rebecca as they sat down to be interviewed. Charlie practically cooed at the cute little girl, who ignored the trio, reading to herself from the open dictionary sitting in her lap.

Charlie, being an only child, had always longed for siblings, and now that she was thirty-one, and longed to have a child of her own.

"Still studying, huh?" Shawn asked, directing the question to both Alice and Rebecca.

"Oh, she loves it," Rebecca said brightly, as Alice didn't even look up. "Won't put that thing down."

"Well, kudos on the child-rearing," Shawn said. "Let me know how the therapy goes."

"Huh?" Rebecca asked in confusion as Charlie stomped on Shawn's foot harshly for his rudeness.

Finished with their so-called interviews (Charlie didn't think they went anywhere fast), Charlie, Shawn, and Gus returned to the theatre as the broadcast continued. Charlie examined the screen where the announcer continued ("We're going to keep rolling because of the exceptional request by Elvin Cavanaugh, behind-the-scenes guy, to give a press conference right here at this stage of the competition. What's that all about?") and Charlie just shook her head at their lack of caring.

"Well," the announcer continued, "I mean, this could be something big, Bud. I mean, this year's competition has just been peppered with controversy."

"It certainly has," announcer number two said. "Well, he's been watching from a private box on the balcony, but now he's going to come out so that we can see him."

Charlie turned from the television screen to look at the actual box to see said man standing with what seemed to be some difficulty. The man, Cavanaugh, had a very red face, and was bracing himself against the railing, as well as holding his stomach.

"Holy fuck!" Charlie gasped to herself as Cavanaugh plummeted over the railing and to the floor below, dead. She was stunned as people around them rushed over, thinking there was actually something to be done.

"Okay, not to belittle this guy's life, but this just got more interesting than the woodcarving finals," Shawn said, also shocked.

"And escalated to a murder," Charlie added in as she reached for her phone to dial the police. She smirked to Lassiter as he arrived with a very pretty woman, whom Charlie assumed was the new detective (she heard Lucinda had been transferred, due to the Chief finding out about her affair with Lassiter). She went over and introduced herself and found out that her name was Det. Juliet O'Hara. She had this sweet, innocent way about her and Charlie instantly knew that she was gonna like Juliet.

"Alright, let's investigate," Charlie said to Shawn and Gus, giving Lassiter a wink, giggling when he sputtered like crazy. She linked her arms through Shawn and Gus' as they climbed the stairs to check out the balcony where Cavanaugh had sat. They were stopped short, however, as they were met by a security guard.

"Uh, can I help you?" the guard asked, looking the three of them over. He gave a polite smile to Charlie, and she gave an internal sigh of relief that he wasn't a lecherous jackwad, like a lot of guys she met were.

"Has anyone come out of there?" Shawn asked the guard, indicating to the balcony room.

"Just the cops," the guard replied. "I've been here the whole time."

"Did you hear anything from in there?" Shawn probed for more information.

"I'm sorry…who are you?" the guard asked.

"Uh, I'm Shawn Spencer. I'm a psychic with the police department."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer," the guard said, actually sounding genuine. "Look, I don't doubt your ability, I actually have an aunt who could see apparitions, and some spooky stuff. But they told me not to let anybody in here without a badge, so…"

"Fucking Lassiter," Charlie growled to herself, too quiet for Shawn, Gus, or the guard to hear, looking over the edge to see said Detective smirking up at her. _Oh, it is on_ , Charlie thought, narrowing her eyes at the very sexy man.

"I see," Shawn said, sounding very disappointed. "Okay. As long as you feel safe."

Charlie waggled her fingers at the guard, arranging her face to look very remorseful and pitying for the guard as the trio turned to leave.

"S—Safe?" the guard stuttered out, looking very scared and spooked.

"What with the dead guy's spirit being here, and him being so angry…" Shawn trailed off.

"Ooh," Charlie gasped with a dramatic intake of air, acting like she was in shock at the mere thought of a ghost (ghosts didn't exist, in her opinion).

"How angry?" the guard asked, looking between Shawn and Charlie, looking quite terrified now.

"Well, considering he might have just been murdered, that's…I mean, that's definitely a negative," Shawn said, laughing shakily, no amusement in his voice, whatsoever. "Man, I wouldn't be happy."

Charlie let out a humorless laugh, along with Gus and the guard, but then cried out, "What the hell?" as Shawn let out a shriek and raised his arms as he was 'flung' back against the wall, as if pinned in place by a vengeful spirit.

"Shawn!" Charlie cried out, rushing to him to 'help' him try and escape from the spirit.

"No, please! Spare me! I'm here to help you! Gus! Back me up here! Help me like Charlie is!" Shawn cried out as he brought his hands up to his throat, grabbing it as he 'choked and convulsed.' Had the guard not been looking between them in fright, Charlie would have rolled her eyes at his antics. Said guard backed away from Charlie and Shawn (whom had started speaking gibberish by this point), scared out of his wits, eyes wide. Shawn fell to the floor, dragging Charlie with him (she banged her knee quite painfully on one of the cement stairs and knew it would bruise), and rolled down the stairs, landing on his stomach, twitching occasionally.

"Y—You guys just take a quick little look-see, okay? I—I'll be downstairs," the guard stammered before sprinting downstairs.

"Did you have to drag me down, too?" Charlie growled, getting up and dusting her pants off. She winced as she put weight on her bum knee, growling and shaking her leg, as if shaking off the pain. She stumbled (and nearly fell) down the stairs to where Shawn had fell.

"Come on, get up," Gus said, nudging Shawn with his foot. Shawn stood with a groan and flinched as Charlie shot him a dark look. She limped (but tried to mask it) along with them into the box, immediately taken back by the smell that hit her.

"Well…we certainly know what his vice was," Shawn said, holding up a donut, after finding it on an extremely messy desk, overflowed with food and papers.

"He was a heavy eater," Gus observed. "So what?"

"Nothing," Shawn said quickly. "I'm just thinking Lassiter's heart attack theory might not be far off."

"But what are the odds of a kid being sabotaged and this guy dying on the same day?" Charlie asked incredulously.

"Not much of one," Gus said.

"Who's contestant 1-9-5-3?" Shawn asked, pointing to the number that was jotted in the margin of a piece of paper.

"It only goes up to two hundred-something," Gus said, shaking his head as Shawn used a pencil to turn the page (after Charlie nudged him when he was about to turn the page by hand and leave prints behind) and saw '1953' written in the margin again.

"What does 1-9-5-3 mean?" Shawn mused.

"Maybe it's totally random and unrelated," Charlie guessed.

"Like you said, not many odds that this isn't all related," Shawn said. "But what does it mean?"

"Nothing," Gus said, after thinking for a moment. "Is it a rule?"

"No, they don't really number the rules like that," Shawn said.

"And now you memorize the rules?" Charlie asked, snorting along with Gus. They both instantly sobered as they noticed what Shawn had: the chair was tipped over, as was a potted plant (spilling out its soil onto the carpet) and a pencil holder on the desk (it blended in a little too well with the mess already there to notice first thing).

"Think there was an altercation?" Gus asked, once again using his fancy words.

"No, something else," Shawn said. "He was all by himself up here."

"So the killer (if he was actually murdered) got to him another way," Charlie said, thinking. "And everything is too connected for it all to be separate occurrences."

"You smell that?" Gus asked Shawn and Charlie, nose pointed in the air, sniffing.

"Dude, don't look at me," Shawn said. "It was probably Charlie."

"Hey!" said woman cried out, smacking Shawn's arm harshly.

"It's not that," Gus said, rolling his eyes at them before sniffing again. "It's sulfuric."

"Gus, I am not the one who had the egg salad," Shawn pointed out, once again getting hit by Charlie and she hissed out, "Rude!"

"No, no, no," Gus insisted. "We manufactured something last year, heavy stuff. When it started to go bad, it smelled the same. You could pick out a bottle across the warehouse." He then proceeded to lean over the desk, all while sniffing his 'Super Smeller.'

"I can't smell anything," Shawn said, huffing.

"It's…faint," Charlie said, furrowing her eyebrows and smelled the air.

"Thank you, Charlie," Gus said and then in an 'I'm-more-superior-than-you tone to Shawn, said, "Well, you don't have the Super Smeller."

"Gus, you have got to stop calling your nose 'the Super Smeller.' If you want to nickname a body part, nickname your butt, man!" Shawn cried out. Charlie made an 'Oh, hell, no!' expression, throwing her hands out in front of herself to stop Shawn, but he kept on talking. "Call it 'the Tight Bouncer,' or 'the Hexagon.' Ladies are going to dig that, I'm telling you."

"As a woman, let me just say that we don't 'dig' that, Shawn Spencer, and you'll do well to remember that," Charlie said, grabbing one of Shawn's ears, ignoring his protest of, 'Ow, ow, ow!' She dropped Shawn's ear as Gus straightened (he had been sniffing around the floor, almost like a dog) and pointed out a Chinese takeaway container that sat on the floor.

"It's there," Gus said, sounding proud of the fact that he had found it. "It's right there. It's subtle, but it's right there."

"Well, what is it?" Shawn asked, scratching his head.

"I don't know," Gus admitted. "It's nothing we manufactured."

"Aren't you supposed to know this kind of stuff?" Shawn asked incredulously.

"I sell pharmaceutical supplies," Gus argued. "I'm not a scientist."

"What about that sulfur shit you mentioned?" Charlie asked, her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed.

"I don't know the exact name of it," Gus sniffed, as if offended.

"But you're saying it is something," Shawn said, trying to be a mediator between his two best friends.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure," Gus said.

"Oh, pretty sure," Charlie snipped, rolling her eyes. Shawn bent down to pick up the takeaway box, but Charlie kicked his arm, causing him to squeal and retract his arm. "Dude, fingerprints! D'you want the police to suspect you of murder?"

"Well…" Shawn said, but trailed off when Charlie glared at him. She took off her jacket and used it in place of gloves that they didn't have and carefully picked up the takeaway container. Shawn, using Charlie's idea, used the edge of his T-shirt to grab the chopsticks and pull some of the lo mein out of the container to examine it.

"Don't eat it," Gus said in warning.

"Dude, do I look like an idiot?" Shawn asked and Charlie snorted.

"Don't answer that question, Gus," Charlie said and they both grinned. Shawn held out his hand to Charlie and she sighed, knowing what he wanted. She dug through her satchel and pulled out an evidence bag (E-bay, baby {as well as snatching some from Lassiter's stash}) and opened it, holding it out to Shawn. He slipped the food inside and then put the evidence bag full of (possibly poisoned) lo mein into Charlie's satchel.

"It had better not stink up by bag, Shawn," Charlie warned him, eyes narrowed.

"What are you…you're taking some to go?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Yes! For the road!" Shawn exclaimed sarcastically. "In case later on Charlie or I get hungry enough to eat something that might be poisoned!"

Charlie rolled her eyes at the two children she was friends with and started leafing around the desk, looking through the papers, trying to see if there was anything else that could be of use. It didn't really matter as a moment later, Gus all but tackled her to the ground.

"What the fuck, Gus?!" she cried out, grabbing her already sore knee as it had twisted the wrong way. _Hello, knee brace_ , she thought to herself.

"Lassiter was looking up here," Gus hissed out.

"So that means you have to nearly kill me?!" Charlie hissed back at him.

"Guys, c'mon," Shawn told them. "We got to go."

Charlie grumbled to herself as she stood into a crouch and, staying low, she followed Shawn and Gus out of the box. She sighed in relief as the trio sit in the back of the theatre and watched as Lassiter made a complete ass of himself in front of the reporter. Charlie rolled her eyes at his tactlessness and grinned as Juliet seemed to be coaching him.

"Who's the blonde?" Gus asked, indicating to Juliet.

"Lassiter's new partner," Shawn said. "They transferred his girlfriend."

"And I have to say, Juliet O'Hara is much friendlier than Detective Lucinda was," Charlie joked.

"And again, we want to assure everyone coming out for this fantastic event," (there was a little bit of eye roll from Lassiter), "that it is entirely safe," Lassiter told the reporter with false enthusiasm.

"Shawn, Charlie, they're going to stop investigating," Gus said in worry.

"We'll just have to investigate on our own, then," Charlie said, determined. "Right after I get a knee brace, that is."

"One last question and I really have to go wrap up the scene," Lassiter said, his chest puffed out and Charlie could swear that his ego just grew a couple of feet (as did his head).

"Do something," Gus hissed at Shawn, jabbing at him.

"Is there any word as to what Cavanaugh's big announcement was?" a reporter asked.

"Moo goo gai pan!" Shawn suddenly cried out, jumping to his feet and putting a hand to his head. The reporters all turned their attention—and their cameras—to Shawn. Charlie slunk down in her seat, not a big fan of being on camera and hid her face behind her hand. She snuck a look and saw that Lassiter had a look of rage and shock on his face.

"Beef lo mein! Kung pao!" Shawn cried out, groaning and rubbing is head. "Check the food! It was murder! Oh, did I just say all of that out loud?"

Lassiter stormed over to them, and manhandling Charlie by the arm, tried to escort them out.

"Don't touch me, Detective," Charlie hissed out, snatching her arm back. "Go back to your reporters, attention whore."

Lassiter didn't even get a word in as Charlie stomped to the other side of the theatre, leaving Shawn and Gus to follow after her warily.

"Can I-?" Shawn asked to Charlie, a cautious look on his face, indicating to her satchel. She sighed and pulled the lo mein out of her bag and handed it to Shawn, an apologetic look in her eyes.

"Sorry, he just makes me to crazy, guys," Charlie said, a rare apology from her. Shawn and Gus both looked at each other before they gave her a huge hug, making her tense from the contact. "Okay, enough. Off! Back to the case."

She shoved them off and Shawn started to examine the contents of the lo mein.

"Shawn, you'll never find out what that is without a lab," Gus pointed out.

"It's too bad by forensic scientist friend lives in D.C.," Charlie mused to herself; she hadn't talked to Abby in a while, she was due for a long chat soon.

"I'll get a lab," Shawn said, continuing on as if Charlie hadn't spoken.

"A high-tech lab? Right now?" Gus asked in disbelief.

"Maybe," Shawn said. "I…might have a connection."

"Well, I'm out," Charlie said, knowing exactly where Shawn was going to go. "I think I may treat myself to lunch."

Giving Shawn and Gus a salute and a wink, she headed towards the exit. Just her luck, said exit was blocked by Lassiter.

"Detective," she said, trying her damndest to be polite. She grit her teeth, knowing that she needed to apologize, but really didn't want to. "I'm….sorry for my earlier comment; it was out of line."

"Fine, whatever," Lassiter growled out.

"Lunch?" Charlie snarled at him.

"I'd love to," he bit back, taking Charlie by complete surprise.

"Wait, what?" she asked, stunned. Lassiter appeared to be as completely stunned as she was, not expecting that answer to come out of his mouth at all. Charlie snorted, and then broke out laughing, still shocked. Sobering most of the way, she studied Lassiter. Yeah, he was very good looking, but he did get on her nerves most of the time.

"I…don't know why I said that," Lassiter mumbled before stalking away from her, in a dark mood.

"Your loss," Charlie said, shrugging her shoulders. She left the theatre in a bit of a daze, but not really sure as to why. She was sure that a sit down lunch with Lassiter would only end in disaster; one of them would murder the other or be arrested. Since she had gotten a ride with Shawn and Gus, Charlie didn't have a ride home, but opted to walk (it was ten miles to her apartment).

She was already about a mile down the road when a car pulled up beside her and stopped, waiting to pick her up. She walked to the passenger window and leaned down, surprised to find Lassiter, looking hot in his aviators.

"Get in," he growled out, unlocking the door for her.

"Thanks," she grumbled out, getting in and fastening her seatbelt.

"Welcome," he said, rather grudgingly. "Where am I going?"

Charlie gave him her address (she had a feeling he already knew her address, as well as her personal information—she was sure he had done a background check on her, as well as everyone he met) and bit out another thanks after he pulled up at her apartment building and got out of his car. The second she was out of his car, he floored it and was gone; Charlie snorted and shook her head and headed inside.

After climbing the stairs, Charlie sighed at the sight of her apartment door ajar, before she remembered that Shawn and Gus were still at the theatre and were going to Henry's for help. She pulled out her Glock and nudged the door open the rest of the way, aiming her gun, looking for intruders. She didn't find anyone, but written on the wall in bright red paint (it wasn't blood or else she'd be able to smell the iron) were the words, 'BACK OFF!'

"Well," she mumbled to herself, "you know you're onto a murderer when they threaten you."

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lassiter (she had gotten his number from the Chief, just in case of emergency) and explained to him what had happened when he barked out, "What?!"

He was back at her apartment in less than ten minutes and examined the room before radioing it in. He wanted to take her back to the station but Charlie flat out refused, not afraid of any nut job that threatened her; she was more than prepared with fifteen various guns hidden around her apartment, as well as an assortment of other weapons, including the knives in her knife block.

Right as he was about to leave, Lassiter got a phone call. He looked at Charlie the whole time before hanging up on whomever it was he had been talking to without saying a word.

"They found Spencer; he appears to have been run off the road earlier and was taken to the hospital."

"What?! Is he okay?" Charlie asked, horror written all over her face.

"He's fine," Lassiter growled out. "I'll take you to see him in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, Detective," Charlie said softly, relieved that her friend that she considered to be a brother was alright. She missed the look of surprise that crossed Lassiter's face, as well and the upward quirk at the corner of his mouth.

She shut the door behind Lassiter and walked back to her room. She knew there was no way she was getting any sleep that night, so she sent a quick text to Gus, asking if he was all right.

 _Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done. Lay you're weary head to rest, don't you cry no more!_

Her phone played Kansas as it alerted her to a text, most likely from Gus.

 **Of course I'm fine. Why?** __Gus' text read, with perfect grammar and punctuation.

 **Just wondering no worries** she texted back quickly. So, he didn't know about Shawn being in the hospital. Well, she wasn't going to be the one to spill the beans to Gus and cause him to worry; he was a worrywart, after all.

 **See you tomorrow, Gus Gus** she texted and then shut her phone off, throwing in on her kitchen counted. She sighed and pulled a bucket out of her cleaning closet and filled it with warm water and lemon-scented Pine-sol before using it on her wall. An hour (and a dry wall) later, the letters had only faded, but not disappeared completely, just as she had thought they wouldn't. Fucking killer; now she was going to have to stop by Home Depot tomorrow and buy paint and paint her whole damn apartment (it needed a good painting anyways).

Knowing there was nothing more she could do that night (more like nearly two in the morning), Charlie settled down on her couch and decided to watch a movie; she put in _North to Alaska_ (one of her favorite John Wayne movies) and cuddled with the croqueted blanket that her mother had made years ago. She saw maybe the first ten minutes of the movie before she passed out on the couch, exhausted.

She woke up groggily the next morning to a pounding headache, as well as a pounding on her front door. Forgetting she was wearing her pajama booty shorts, as well as a skimpy (white) wife beater, she threw open the door, very grumpy, to find a surprised Lassiter standing there, his eyes very much not on her face.

"What?" she growled out, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Um, I'm here to take you to the hospital," Lassiter stuttered out, focusing back on her face

"Oh, I forgot," she mumbled. "Make yourself at home; I'll be ready in five."

She shut the door behind him and headed straight for her bedroom. She took the fastest shower of her life and pulled on leggings and a mid-thigh black dress that had Blue Oyster Cult logo on it and pulled on her combat boots. She grabbed her military jacket and satchel on the way out the door and walked down the stairs with Lassiter following her (she didn't know, but he was staring at her ass the whole way down before shaking his head, wondering what the hell he was doing).

Lassiter dropped her off at the hospital and without so much as a goodbye, took off much like he had the previous evening. Charlie shook her head in amusement (she knew he had been staring at her breasts that morning and was obviously trying to fight off the effects of doing so; it was very hilarious to her) and headed inside to the nurses' station. Before she could even give the head nurse Shawn's name to find out what room he was in, she spotted Shawn and Gus walking down the hallway towards her, Shawn wearing a pretty knarly-looking knee brace.

"Shawn! Gus!" she called out and watched, almost gleefully, at the total deer-in-the-headlight looks they gave her. She was even sure that Shawn uttered a few choice curse words before he plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Charles!" he cried out in exuberance, holding his arms out wide, waiting for the hug that wouldn't come.

"Why the hell didn't you call to tell me you were in the hospital, Shawn Spencer?! And you," she turned on Gus, who squeaked. "You could've called me! Instead, I had to find out from Lassiter!"

"Why were you with Lassiter?" Shawn asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Because the killer, the same killer that decided to run you off the road, left me a lovely message on the wall of my apartment, politely telling me to back off, so I had to call Lassiter. He had given me a ride from the theatre yesterday," Charlie explained, waving her hand like it wasn't a big deal, but Shawn and Gus both had horrified expressions on their faces. "Oh, stop it, both of you! I'm fine. You know me and my guns."

"True," Gus agreed, bobbing his head as they continued down the hall, destination unknown to both Gus and Charlie. Shawn was in the process of unwrapping a bandage from around his wrist and hand, until Charlie slapped his uninjured hand and started re-bandaging his wrist with a glare.

"You call your dad?" Gus asked Shawn, though both he and Charlie already knew the answer.

"Gus, Charlie, I'm not going to talk to my dad," Shawn said, giving them a glare.

"He'd want to know you're okay," Gus said, shrugging his shoulders.

"You know he's just gonna be more pissed when he finds out from someone else, Shawn. May as well bite the bullet," Charlie said, finishing with his wrist. "Leave it on," she ordered his, pointing her finger at him. "And call your dad."

"All he cares about are results, just like those possessed Spelling Bee parents," Shawn growled out, stomping down the hallway. He peeked through a doorway and, not seeing what he was looking for, continued on. "You know what's wrong with this? All of this."

"Shawn, you're delirious," Gus said, as Shawn grimaced in pain. "You're upset. You lost control of your bike last night."

Charlie growled at Gus, as he begrudgingly ignored her comment of how the killer had tried to off Shawn (she had gotten this straight from the horses' mouth—or, well, Lassiter) and threaten her.

"Gus, I didn't lose control of anything," Shawn said, exasperated and stopped to face his friend. "Someone tried to kill me, or send a very serious message, same with Charlie, which can't be ignored."

Shawn continued down the hall, finally found what he was looking for and ducked into a room. Charlie and Gus gave each other bewildered looks before following after him and found Brendan Vu, the sabotaged contestant from the Spelling Bee, along with his mother and father. Charlie was stopped short at the number of balloons and flowers around the room, her eyes wide at all the frivolous stuff.

"Hey, kid," Charlie said brightly, shaking off the shock. "We're consultants for the police. I'm Charlie, this is Gus, and Shawn, who's a psychic detective. We just wanted to come see how you were doing, bud."

"Oh, my," the mother gaped at them, open-mouthed. "Thank you. Brendan appreciates you checking on him."

"You're welcome," Charlie said, beaming. She really wished she could have had a sibling to look after when she was growing up.

"Well, we were in the neighborhood, and Gus here is a huge fan," Shawn said. "He almost won the Spelling Bee himself."

"I took some bad advice," Gus said, giving Shawn a not-so-discreet glare.

"If you had just listened to me, instead," Charlie hissed at him under her breath.

"Well, Brendan's going home tomorrow," his mother informed them. "He's fine. He's more upset about missing the Spelling Bee."

"Well, maybe they'll decide to redo the whole thing," Shawn commented.

"Why would they do that?" Brendan asked in total confusion.

"Um, that word master guy died yesterday," Charlie said, her head dropping as she delivered the news.

"Oh!" the mother said.

"Well, we'll leave you to your recovery," Charlie said, smiling as she pulled Shawn and Gus out of the room.

"Did you see the inhaler?" Shawn hissed the moment they were out of the room.

"Same one as that little Czech kid?" Gus asked.

"Get me a seating chart," Shawn said. "I'll bet you I know who Brendan was sitting next to on day one."

"Already checked it out," Gus said smugly; Charlie smacked his arm for being so arrogant, and he rubbed it with a wince.

"Nice," Shawn commented.

"Shawn, something's going on with that Czech kid," Gus said, thinking of something suddenly.

"Talk to me," Shawn replied.

"The doctor on his inhaler, Dr. Zavin in Ventura?"

"Yeah?"

"He doesn't exist," Gus said and Charlie frowned, thinking this was all one big fuckfest of crazy. "I do training on that route. The last doctor in the book is Youngerman. I double-checked it today."

"You're saying the inhaler…" Shawn trailed off, thinking.

"Is a fake," Gus finished the thought for him.

"Why the hell would a kid have a fake inhaler in the Spelling Bee?" Charlie wondered as Shawn laughed and walked away from her and Gus.

"Where are you going?" Gus asked.

"I…am going to build a doghouse," Shawn said, limping away down the hall.

"What the hell?" Charlie mumbled. "Well, shall we go to lunch, Gus Gus?"

Charlie and Gus ended up eating at a Chinese place down by the bay area, which was one of Charlie's favorites. They were nearly done eating when Shawn called Charlie's cell, telling her and Gus to meet him at the station.

Shawn was jumping with excitement when Gus pulled up in the Blueberry, telling them about the results that he had gotten back from his dad.

"Wow, Henry actually helped," Charlie said in surprise, smirking at Gus, who nodded in agreement. Charlie gave Lassiter a nod in acknowledgment and a ghost of a smile and then grinned brightly at Juliet, who returned it.

"Poisoned?" Chief Vick asked in surprise as the trio (actually only Shawn) sat in front of her desk. Charlie stood beside Juliet, leaning against the wall, her leg propped up against the glass that made up said wall, wishing desperately for a smoke right then.

"I feel somebody poisoned his food," Shawn said, his fingers to his head as he had a 'vision.' "There is a….Styrofoam container….yes, and a…" (insert fake pained groan) "'Happiness is a golden poem.' What? Fortune cookie."

"This is ridiculous," Lassiter growled out and Charlie snorted, covering it up as a cough; Lassiter didn't even know how close he was to being right.

"Is it?" Juliet asked, fully believing in Shawn's abilities it seemed.

"Eh," Charlie said, making a hand motion that said 'so-so.' "He's the real deal," she lied to Juliet, "but he is crazy sometimes."

"Mr. Spencer, what we have now points to a medical condition, not murder," the Chief scowled at him, disliking having his brought up again. "All appearances show Mr. Cavanaugh having an anaphylactic reaction."

"Not to be out of line," (Charlie snorted as Gus spoke) "but that could be triggered by several types of poisons, or altered medications."

"Or shellfish, which he was allergic to," Lassiter snarled out, ready to be done with this nonsense.

"Or not shellfish," Charlie said in return, smirking at his annoyance. "People that are allergic to things are very, very meticulous about how their food is prepared: I have make sure that no strawberries enter my mouth."

Lassiter look surprised and then found himself staring at said mouth, almost transfixed until his partner (Juliet) elbowed him. Charlie, having turned her attention back to Shawn, hadn't noticed, which Lassiter was very thankful for. He scowled at himself that he had even noticed that.

"Those results will show up in the toxicology report, which we will have a copy of in approximately two weeks," the Chief informed them.

"Unless it's a poison that isn't in the normal toxicology test," Charlie said and everyone in the room looked at her. "What? I like crime shows and books."

"Regardless," the Chief said. "It'll still be two weeks."

"No, no, no! That'll be too late," Shawn exclaimed, standing. "All the contestants will have gone…home. You won't be able to finish a real investigation. Chief, I—I sense this. Something got out of control and the perpetrator was willing to kill to cover it up."

"What proof do you have?" Chief Vick asked, studying him.

"Only what I feel," Shawn said after hesitating for a moment.

"Why are you still listening to this crap?" Lassiter snarled out, glaring at Shawn.

"Dude, what is your glitch?" Shawn asked, exasperated.

"You," Lassiter snapped at Shawn. "You're my 'glitch.'" He turned to the Chief, missing Charlie's dark glare she sent him. "Look, he got nowhere with his little inhaler assignment, and then he tells the media that we had a murder scene! Cut him loose, Karen!" Charlie had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep the laughter in at the glare the Chief sent Lassiter. "I mean, do whatever you think is best…Chief."

"Yeah, you do 'whatever you think is best'," Charlie said, using her fingers in air quotes, "and you've got a killer running around. Have you forgotten that this creep tried to kill Shawn and was in my apartment?"

"No, we haven't, Miss Matthews," the Chief said, giving her a not-so-happy look.

"Well, Mr. Cavanaugh was going to make an announcement," Gus said. "What about that?"

"The Director said he'd spoken of retiring," Juliet input shyly, wringing her hands in front of her.

"That's not what he was going to say," Shawn said, shaking his head.

"Oh, you know?" Lassiter growled.

"I know," Shawn said.

"Psychic, remember?" Charlie snarled sarcastically at Lassiter. "He's highly annoying, but usually right."

"Mr. Spencer, I asked you to check in about the inhaler incident," Chief Vick said, standing; Charlie was almost temped to give the pregnant woman a hand. "If you or your partners have anything about that, I'd be happy to hear about it. Otherwise…"

Charlie gave a growl at the clear dismissal and looked to Shawn and Gus to see the same disappointed look on their faces that she knew was on hers.

"We've got to get back into the Spellmaster's room," Shawn said to Gus and Charlie as they left the Chief's office and headed towards the exit of the police station.

"You're serious?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Hell yeah, he is," Charlie said, grinning and high-fived Shawn.

"Gus, the killer was there," Shawn explained to his friend. "There's got to be some other piece of evidence there."

"Evidence that'll actually make the police and that asshat, Lassiter, listen to us," Charlie said, making Shawn snort at her.

"Does he really annoy you that much?" Shawn asked as the trio climbed into the Blueberry and drove to the Cabrillo Theatre.

"Either I'll kill him or I'm beginning to like him," Charlie said, quoting Han Solo, making Shawn laugh and even Gus break out a smile.

"We're not going to have time to get in there," Gus observed as they walked towards the fire escape in the theatre. "Besides, it's locked."

"Not to mention the new Spellmaster they've already hired," Charlie pointed out.

"Exactly!" Gus exclaimed, pointing at Charlie.

"We'll make it work," Shawn said. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. How hard is it to get into this event without a ticket?"

"Impossible," Gus said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

They look out the fire escape door to see the new Spellmaster leaning against the railing, smoking.

"The new Spellmaster," Shawn observed. "Check it out."

"Well, this is me, boys," Charlie said, winking at her boys. "Don't wait up. Oh, and shut the door behind me."

She exhibited confidence as she strut out the fire exit door and in a very flirty tone asked Spellmaster Fineman, "Mind if I bum a cigarette off of you?"

Fineman, seeming surprised that a woman was even speaking to him ( _he couldn't have had many at all, what with a career in the Spelling Bee_ , Charlie thought to herself), fumbled with his carton, handing her a smoke with shaky fingers.

"Thanks, sweetie," she said with a wink. "How 'bout a light?"

Shawn and Gus (mostly Shawn; Gus wasn't happy about the plan) saved her from having to do much flirting (she was incredibly rusty—she hadn't had a boyfriend for a few years, courtesy of Shawn and Gus scaring them all away) and slammed the door shut, locking her and Fineman outside.

"Hey!" she cried out, pounding on the door, putting on a show for Fineman. "Hey! We're still out here!"

"Shit!" Fineman cursed. "I have less than five minutes before I have to get back in there for the Bee."

"Ohmigod," Charlie 'panicked', breathing out in a false girly voice. "I'm so getting fired! I'm supposed to be in there writing a piece on the Spelling Bee! My boss is so gonna kill me!"

"Just stay with me, I'll find us another way in!" Fineman said, trying to play the hero. It took them a good twenty minutes and them hearing bits and pieces of the Bee from open windows (Charlie had to try really hard not to burst out giggling when she heard Shawn reading Fineman's grocery list for words for the kids to spell) with Fineman's face getting very red the more pissed off he got.

When they reached security (with Fineman none the wiser about Charlie's involvement in distracting him) Charlie parted ways with him (sneakily, of course; she didn't want him being all clingy to her), leaving him to rant about how he had his "reputation to uphold."

"Good job, guys," Charlie said, snorting as she met up with Shawn and Gus. "And thank fuck I left that idiot when I did; I was ready to strangle him. He kept trying to play me off as some damsel in distress. Please, I could take his ass any day."

After their laughter died down, Shawn and Gus told her what they had found (and what Shawn had missed the previous day) in the Spellmaster's box.

"So he was watching the Czech, we have no proof," Gus sighed out. "There was no film in the camera."

"He was using that lens for something else besides taking pictures," Shawn mused. "Now, what?"

"What about as a sort of telescope?" Charlie pointed out. "Most cameras with a good zoom on it are cheaper than a good telescope."

"Cavanaugh was known for ferreting out rule-breakers, so it's possible," Gus thought, agreeing with Charlie's theory. "He once caught a kid stealing the advance word list. And everything he did had a purpose."

They stopped at a table where Shawn picked up a small pamphlet with Spelling Bee information and words from past Bees on it.

"You couldn't have grabbed one of these five minutes ago?" Shawn scoffed, passing the pamphlet to Gus before walking (er, limping) off.

"I thought you did a good job," Charlie said with a lop-sided grin, following after Shawn.

"I don't," Gus exclaimed, getting fired up again. "He's ruined the whole Spelling Bee!"

The trio entered the theatre (with Charlie calming Gus and when that didn't work, threatened him bodily harm if he didn't shut up) and sat in the same row as Miklos so they could keep an eye on him. Gus read through the booklet, scoffing when he noticed something.

"Look at this," he said, scoffing again. "Brendan Vu went down on 'gladiolus'."

"So?" Shawn asked.

"And that matters because?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So? It matters because if I'd been able to see any of the competition, I could've told you that was the winning world from the first Spelling Bee in 1929," Gus told them.

"Okay, you're scaring me again," Shawn said, leaning away from Gus.

"I second that; definitely not something a person should really know," Charlie said, wrinkling her nose at her friend.

"All of these words from that round were the winning words," Gus noticed out loud, not that Shawn or Charlie even cared. "They do that once in a while. They make it a theme round. This one won the 1985 Bee, this one from 1943…"

"Gus, what are you saying?" Shawn asked, rolling his eyes at Charlie, who threw a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

"Guess which kid got the winning word from 1953?" Gus asked, smirking at his discovery.

"I don't know," Shawn mouthed at Charlie, still not taking it seriously, but Charlie, on the other hand, was mouthing '1953' to herself, finally getting it.

"You're staring at his father," Gus whispered in return to Shawn. The trio look at Jiri, who is onstage at that moment before it hit Shawn.

"Gus, Charlie, that's who Cavanaugh was going to disqualify," Shawn whispered at them. "That's what he was tracking in the rule book. 1-9-5-3. It was 1953."

"Jiri Prochazka, you have the next word. 'Mastoparietal'," Fineman read out to the kid.

"P—part of speech?" Jiri stuttered out as his dad opened his dictionary.

"It is an adjective," Fineman said.

"C—could I have the d—definition?" Jiri asked.

"Yes. Relating to the mastoid portion of the temporal bone and to the parietal bone," Fineman said.

Charlie looked from Jiri to Miklos, wondering how the hell he was cheating (Miklos, that is) before she turned back to Jiri onstage (she noticed Miklos tapping on his dictionary, but thought nothing of it).

"M…A…S…T…O…P…A…R…I…E…T…A…L," Jiri spelled out.

"I get it," Shawn suddenly said, smiling.

"Let's call the Chief," Gus said as the trio got up and went to the back of the theatre. Charlie called the Chief, who informed her that they were already on their way, that Shawn had already called them.

"Why didn't you tell us that you already called the Chief?" Charlie demanded, punching her friend in the arm. "We hadn't figured anything out yet."

"Yeah, well, it's the last day of the Spelling Bee and I figured if all else failed, I'd just bullshit an explanation," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, like you do everything else in life?" Charlie snarked, fist-bumping Gus, whom was smirking.

"Whatever," Shawn said, shaking his head. "It's showtime."

While Shawn went onstage to do his thing (AKA, show off), Charlie and Gus met Chief Vick, Lassiter, and Juliet at the entrance to the theatre. Charlie smirked at Lassiter, whom scowled at her, while onstage, Mrs. Foote presented a very large check to Jiri (after announcing he was the winner).

"Whoop it up, people!" Shawn cried out, applauding, confusing the audience of his presence. "This is what you came to see, right here! This is it! Yes!" He held up one of Miklos and Jiri's arms, respectively, in victory, causing Miklos to smile nervously as he caught sight of the police. "This competition meant everything to Miklos!" Shawn started convulsing around the stage like he was being electrocuted. "Oh, boy! Gus! Charlie, here we go! Gus, it's happening! I know who killed Elvin Cavanaugh!"

"Can't he ever just tell us to arrest someone?" Chief Vick complained, rubbing her huge stomach.

"He does this a lot?" Juliet asked.

"Yes," Chief Vick and Lassiter said at the same time.

"Yeah, but he gets results," Charlie commented, making both the Chief and Lassiter glare at her. "What? He does!"

"I'm sorry," Shawn breathed heavily, apologizing after hearing the Chief. "I'm kind of a slave to my visions. I'm a slave."

"Do you want me to cuff him?" Lassiter growled out to the Chief.

"Why would I want that?" Chief Vick looked at Lassiter as if he had a third head.

"Just a suggestion," Lassiter grumbled out.

"You could cuff me," Charlie whispered in his ear, smirking triumphantly when he flushed and sent her a dark glare.

"They just sort of come when they want to come," Shawn continued on. "Jiri…spell 'soubrette'."

"Why is this man speaking?" Miklos asked, sounding equal parts angry and terrified, his voice shaky.

"You can't, can you?" Shawn asked, sounding a bit too smug, Charlie thought. "Not without help from your dad. And that's not a real inhaler, is it?"

"This is crazy," Miklos stuttered out. "This…this…"

"Cheating was Cavanaugh's obsession," Shawn explained, doing his ridiculous "I'm having a vision" routine. "He was going to expose you as a cheater. He was going to disqualify Jiri and you knew it and you couldn't let that happen. You had way too much to lose. You slipped into the box. You knew his comfort was food. He was dangerously unhealthy. He's starting to go into shock…you knew he wouldn't stop the Bee. He never stops the Bee. By the end of the round, it was too late. Too dizzy to walk, he stumbles." Shawn mimicked the stumbling and stopped at the edge of the stage. "He tumbles over the rail, crashed to the chairs below…and there goes the evidence. Except for one thing. That inhaler…" Charlie raised an eyebrow and the kid, Jiri, slipped the inhaler into his pocket with a guilty look. "It sends electronic signals! The transmitter is in your jacket. You sent the signals from the audience to the stage. And I bet at your home, we'll find the van that ran me off the road when I alerted the police! Not to mention a can of red paint that'll match the color you painted on Charlie's wall in her apartment! Dangerous cocktail of unforgiving poisons."

"You don't need it," Juliet said, stepping forward. "I took your advice. I ran the Chinese food through the lab. Nothing's definite…." she then turned to Lassiter. "I'm sorry. He just seemed so sure. I took a shot."

"Always trust your gut," Charlie said, quote Gibbs from NCIS (she had a guilty pleasure for cop shows).

"I'll take it from here," Chief Vick said, climbing (quite laboriously) the stair to the stage.

Charlie stood outside by the road with Shawn and Gus as they watched Juliet escorting Jiri to a squad car, while Lassiter had Miklos cuffed and took the perpetrator to the backseat of his Crown Vic.

"I could've won that thing," Gus said bitterly, still not over losing his own Spelling Bee.

"Yeah, you could've," Shawn agreed. "Thank the lord you didn't."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Gus asked, grumpy as the police all drove away, leaving the trio to walk along the road to the Blueberry.

"Oh, Gus," Shawn sighed. "The guy who wins? Saddled forever as, you know, the dude that won the Spelling Bee. I'm sure you would have dealt with it later, but kids, high school kids especially, they're just ruthless…judgmental…horrible little bastards." He started holding up fingers as he counted out his points. "You wouldn't have been able to date a cheerleader. They wouldn't have invited you to any parties. You'd have been the object of ridicule. I mean, this way, you got to be a smart kid and a cool kid, the best of both worlds."

"That's true," Gus agreed, nodding his head. "I appreciate that, Shawn."

"And the penny drops," Charlie grumbled to herself, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Yeah, it was a nice balance," Shawn said. "That's why I had to give you the wrong letter; I knew you wouldn't listen to Charlie."

"You knew that was wrong?" Gus stopped, glaring at Shawn. The term _if looks could kill_ came to Charlie's mind and she stepped back, leaning against a palm tree, keeping out of their way.

"Oh, come one, Gus," Shawn groaned. "'Aggiornamento?' Everybody knew it was an 'I'."

Shawn immediately started backing away as Gus started to get pissed off.

"All right, you hold on," Shawn said. "You were happy one second ago."

"I was about to win!" Gus ranted. "I studied for three months!"

"Yeah and you would have kept studying forever and ever, all the way till nationals!" Shawn said, taking another step back as Gus started walking towards him slowly. "You're upset now, I can see that, but you'll be fine with it later."

"You know what that did to me?" Gus demanded.

"Yes, yes, I do," Shawn said. "We went out the next night, the three of us, and…and you were so flustered that you threw caution to the wind and you hooked up with Melinda Castleberg! It was nice!"

"Ugh, she was such a bitch!" Charlie commented to herself as Gus started chasing Shawn all over the lawn. "She put gum in my hair in sixth grade."

"Come here, Shawn!" Gus shouted.

"At least I was honest!" Shawn called back.

"Come here!"

"You guys are such children! I'm gonna kill both of you!"

A couple days later, on their way back to Charlie's apartment from lunch (she had to get ready for her shift at the garage), Shawn declared he had to make a stop, with Gus giving him dark looks (he was still sore about the Spelling Bee), and they parked down the road from Henry's house. Shawn walked to the hatchback trunk of the car, opened it, and pulled out a Golden Labrador puppy.

"What the fuck?!" Charlie exclaimed, jumping back from Shawn and the demon spawn. "How long has that thing been back there?!"

"Couple hours," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders like it wasn't a big deal.

"I'm going to kill you, Shawn," Charlie said, glaring at said man.

"Don't worry, I'm dropping him off at my dad's," Shawn reassured her with a grin.

"Good," Charlie said snippily, scowling at her friend.

Five minutes later, Shawn came back across the road with Henry shouting at him to "get his ass back here and take the damn dog" and "Shawn!"

"He's not going to keep that thing, you know," Gus pointed out as they all climbed back into the Blueberry.

"It's my neighbor's dog," Shawn said, shrugging. "We'll take a lap around the block. Let him stew a little bit."

"Yeah, drop me off somewhere before you do; I'm not getting near that fucker again," Charlie said with a shudder. Shawn and Gus both exchange grins before taking off with Henry shouting at them as they drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Salt and Pepper: Chapter Three**

 _Tap! Tap! Bang! Bang! Bam!_ Charlie was drenched in sweat as she pounded on the punching bag in front of her, occasionally throwing in a kick or two. She was taking out all of her aggression (including those provided to her by a certain SBPD Head Detective). She was ready to take on an opponent in the ring (some dude that looked way too arrogant and cocky to her) when she suddenly scowled as her named was called out from across the gym.

"Charlie! Yo, Charlie!" Shawn Spencer called out, Gus tagging along behind him. Charlie had to let out a chuckle at the very uncomfortable look on Gus' face before immediately replacing it with a scowl to let them know they weren't welcome there. That didn't deter Shawn or Gus, though; or rather, only Shawn, as Gus currently looked like he wanted to run out of the building as quickly as he could.

Charlie ignored the pair as she stormed over to the ring (gleefully taking in the brief look of terror on her opponent's face), slipping between the ropes of the ring, making sure her gloves were secured tightly.

"Aw, c'mon, Charlie!" Shawn called out to her as he and Gus stood by the side of the ring, Gus looking like he might faint at the violence. "Don't be Gus' underpants. We've got a new case: a missing heirloom diamond ring; the couple due to get married and not only is their ring missing, but so is the best man, who is also the prime suspect."

Truthfully, Charlie barely heard anything Shawn said as she ducked her opponent's gloved fist before slamming her own glove as hard as she could into the man's face, knocking him to the mat. She was pleased to see blood streaming from his nose (served the bastard right for making a snide comment of how women didn't belong in a gym like this) and both Shawn and Gus stepped back, whimpering in fear (Gus looked nauseous at the sight of blood).

Charlie exited the ring, a smirk on her face as the asshat rolled on the mat, moaning and clutching his nose (what a pussy) and stood in front of Shawn and Gus (she let out a chuckle when they flinched backwards from her).

"So," she said with a smirk, "since I was beating the shit outta that guy's face and didn't hear a single word you said, wanna run the case by me again?"

Shawn and Gus followed after her like little lost puppies as she headed to the locker room, Shawn recapping the case of the missing engagement ring (with Gus inputting that the Chief had strictly told them to stay away from the case; Charlie told him to shut it—rules were meant to be broken) as well as the missing best man.

Shawn was still blabbing and made to follow after Charlie as she entered the women's locker room ("What the fuck d'you think you're doing, Shawn?!" she screeched out as he went to follow her into the showers) but Charlie told him and Gus to wait outside for her (Gus grumbled about something but she didn't really care). She was out five minutes later, piling her wet hair onto her head into a messy bun, and neither Shawn, nor Gus, was anywhere to be seen.

"Fuck me with a wooden spoon," she groaned to herself, sending a glare to a man that was working out nearby, giving her an odd look. "Why couldn't I have nice, normal friends instead of these clowns?"

She spotted Shawn across the gym, chatting up a rather intimidating bald man that was covered in tattoos, a big dopey grin on his face.

"Where'd Gus go?" Charlie asked the second she reached Shawn and Mr. Clean (not only was he bald, Charlie discovered he also had a gold earring).

"Oh, he left," Shawn said, waving his hand. "Something about needing to go to work and boring meetings."

"Oh, I'm gonna kill that shithead," Charlie growled. "That fucker was our ride."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Shawn said smoothly. "Bob, here, has offered to give us a ride to the hotel where the wedding is taking place."

"Thanks," Charlie said, giving Bob (she preferred to call him Mr. Clean) a curt nod before storming outside, her bad mood hanging around her like a dark storm cloud. She'd rather just go home and sleep for the rest of the day, but she immediately toyed with the idea of getting to fuck with a certain detective and she smirked to herself, things finally looking up a bit; she also started planning on how to get revenge on Gus for ditching her and Shawn.

A short ride in Bob's ancient pickup truck later (Charlie was actually worried that the engine would explode before they reached the swanky hotel, killing the three of them), Charlie nearly kissed the ground in relief (Mr. Clean was the craziest fucking driver she'd ever been in the car with and had nearly lost her lunch) and only held up a hand in farewell as she climbed the stairs of the hotel, not bothering to wait for Shawn.

The second they entered the hotel lobby, Shawn nearly tackled Charlie to the floor, hiding them behind a huge planter. She opened her mouth to ask him what the actual fuck he was doing, but he clamped a hand over her mouth. She was ready to bite his hand when she heard Lassiter's voice coming from the other side of the planter. She shoved Shawn's hand off, wrinkling her nose in disgust and peeked over the planter, through the giant fern, to spot the lanky head detective standing in the lobby, talking to Juliet, as well as a couple officers.

"Mandatory briefing, Magnolia Room, fifteen minutes," Lassiter barked to the officers and Juliet before spotting a man about twenty feet away. "Excuse us, please. Attorney General Maxwell," he greeted the man.

"Detective, I trust we're making progress," Maxwell said as he and Lassiter shook hands. Beside Charlie, Shawn popped his head up, also watching the exchange.

"I am right on schedule, sir," Lassiter said, sounding to Charlie like he was bragging; she let out a snort and shook her head. "I've booked myself a suite to use as a command center."

"Why?" the AG asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'll stay the night if I have to, keep an eye on things…" Lassiter told him, puffing his chest out proudly.

"The city's not paying for that, is it?" Maxwell demanded, scowling.

"Uh, no?" Lassiter said/asked; Charlie wasn't really sure which it was, but she was loving this—it was hilarious.

"That ring has been in my family for two hundred years," Maxwell said sternly. "My mother agonized over the decision to give it to my son. I'm not letting it get away now."

"Sir, we are checking every person who came through that door," Lassiter assured the very powerful man. "Every employee, every guest."

"Nobody checks out of this hotel until we're just short of going through every piece of their luggage," Maxwell said, agreeing with Lassiter.

"That'll take one hell of a search warrant," Charlie hissed to Shawn, who nodded.

"Way ahead of you, sir," Lassiter said with a smile.

"No, you're not," Maxwell said, walking away, causing Lassiter to drop his smile.

"What?" he scowled at Juliet when she snorted. She just shook her head but said nothing as Lassiter looked at the planter, a gut feeling telling him that he was being watched. Charlie and Shawn quickly ducked down, Charlie swearing quietly to herself as Lassiter and Juliet walked away.

"That was too close," Charlie breathed out a sigh of relief, then started with a growl when a voice said behind them, "Can I help you, sir, ma'am?"

"Fuck," Charlie breathed out as she turned around to see a hotel security guard leaning down to where they were crouched.

"We're just…listening," Shawn stuttered, coming up with a quick lie, putting his ear up against the planter, Charlie following his lead.

"For what?" the guard asked skeptically.

"For what?" Shawn scoffed out, taking in everything and thinking. "Lyme disease."

"Lyme disease?" the guard asked, taking a step away from the planter, a look of fear on his face.

"Lyme disease," Shawn said firmly. "Rickets, Avitaminosis, Legionnaire's, Bubonic; you name it. I want you to listen to something." He knocked on the base of the planter—Charlie noted that nothing sounded wrong with it, but to the paranoid guard, it sounded very bad and Charlie had to hold her snort in. "Do you hear that?"

"Mmm-hmm," the guard hummed, a terrified crossing his face.

"We have spores in the wall," Shawn declared.

"Spores?" the guard asked weakly.

"Bad spores; killer spores," Charlie said, using her best 'I actually know what the fuck I'm talking about' voice.

"You know where else they are?" Shawn asked as he and Charlie both stood to face the guard properly. "In the planter. You know where else? Everywhere in the entire hotel."

"Who called you? Mike?" the guard asked; even though he was clearly terrified, he was still skeptical of the pair.

"Mike? Is this a big joke to you?" Shawn demanded while Charlie snarled at the man. "We don't answer to Mike. Have you seen Mike lately? Mike can kiss our asses. We were called in by the state inspector himself. Are you at all aware how dangerous this is?"

"Hell yes, I am!" the guard exclaimed, putting on the mask that was attached to his belt, nearly hyperventilating in panic.

"Good, I'm glad," Shawn said, not faking his glee at how easily the guard was buying his shit story. "We need access to this whole place…elevator shafts, air vents, the safe room, obviously…"

"The safe room is as crime scene," the guard said, bewildered by this request, and also apprehensive about the pair again.

"This eucalyptus will be dead by lunch," Shawn growled out. "The safe room will be a triage unit if we don't get those spores out of there."

"Understood," the guard said, still holding his mask over his mouth and nose to keep the mythical spores at bay. "Can we let the cops finish up in there first?"

"You tell them to hurry," Shawn urged him.

"Oh, man," the guard said, hurrying away.

"What a fucking schmuck," Charlie said, shaking her head as she and Shawn headed in the opposite direction.

"C'mon, I've got an idea of how to get into Lassiter's briefing," Shawn said, tugging on Willow's arm.

-[*]-

Ten minutes later, Charlie was cursing Shawn under her breath as he led her crawling through the air ducts. Well, she was claustrophobic, she just realized as she tried to keep her breathing under control so she wouldn't go into a panic attack. Finding the correct vent, Shawn very carefully slithered over the vent (Charlie had made him go into the vent before her so he wouldn't be looking at her ass—he may be like a brother to her, but he was still a guy) so the two friends were lying on either side of the vent, looking down at Lassiter giving his briefing.

Charlie focused on the surveillance footage that was playing on the television of the safe room the night of the theft because the vent would be a very bad place for her to have a freak out (not to mention there was the probability of falling through the vent and into the room full of police officers and detectives).

"Thirteen minutes after midnight, members of the wedding party entered the safe room, placing the ring into a safety deposit box, which was slid into the safe and closed for the night," Lassiter said, scowling at the room full of (in his opinion) buffoons. "No sensors indicate that either the safe door or the lock box was opened again until the following morning. Please note, he has activated the time-lock, which prevents the safe from opening. No one walks into that room again until the following morning, when the ring is discovered missing."

Officer McNab, whom Charlie thought was just adorable in his own bumbling way, raised his hand and said, "So it definitely didn't disappear during the night."

"Or so they would like you to think," Lassiter growled out, his gravely voice temporarily distracting Charlie from her claustrophobia to send shivers down her spine. "However, if you look closely, there are nine glitches on this tape."

"I'm sorry, glitches?" Juliet asked confused.

"Seams, static bursts in the image," Lassiter explained to her (not impressed that he had to explain this to his partner—honestly, didn't anyone see it like he did?). Charlie bit her lip as she focused on the television, watching for those glitches and actually spotted them (surprised that Lassiter was right about this and not just crazy). "Someone could have tapped in an alternate video feed of this room while it was empty. Or, more likely, as I believe, someone built a scale replica of this room."

Shawn let out a laugh while Charlie snorted, covering her hand with her mouth at Lassiter's ridiculous notions.

"Who laughed?" Lassiter demanded, looking around the room, anger in his eyes. "Nobody?" As he turned to face his little board, Shawn laughed again and Charlie just shook her head; Lassiter was way too into his job sometimes. "If someone disagrees with my theory, I'd like to know."

"It does seem very elaborate," Juliet said, sounding very disbelieving.

"And just a bit farfetched," McNab scoffed.

"Are you a detective? Why are you here?" Lassiter barked at McNab.

"You asked for all of us to come," McNab said, looking and sounding like a wounded puppy.

"Oh, well, Officer, since you're such an expert on fetching," Lassiter snarled, "why don't you fetch me a cup of coffee."

Lassiter looked up to the vent when Shawn laughed again and Charlie smacked him, giving him a death glare, as McNab left the room to get Lassiter's coffee. Charlie gave a quiet sigh of relief as Lassiter just shook his head, shaking the vent out of his mind and went back to his briefing.

"Moving on," he said, scowling. "All the employee alibis check out, except this one." He pointed to a photo of a man and said, "Dietrich Mannheim. Currently the facilities manager. You may remember him from the security video. He was in the room when the ring was placed into the safety deposit box. During questioning, he was nervous, evasive, and contradicted himself more than once. His work computer history reveals that he recently visited websites for boats and expensive cars, and he failed to show up for work. Questions?"

"Is this your only lead?" Juliet asked with raised eyebrows.

"His responses to my interrogation were hostile at best," Lassiter said through gritted teeth.

"Clarify 'hostile'," Juliet said, knowing just about everyone sounded hostile to Lassiter, especially Charlie.

"Use my tone now as a guide," Lassiter hissed out.

Getting out of the vent was almost pure hell for Charlie and she spent a few minutes to recover herself while Shawn, after spotting Juliet sitting in the hotel restaurant by herself, decided to join her. She was still leaning against a column in the hotel lobby (after ducking once when Lassiter walked by) catching her breath and dusting herself off (the vent had an unbelievable about of dust bunnies) when Shawn rejoined her and decided that it was time to get Gus.

The pair took a cab (Charlie punched Shawn when she found out he 'forgot' his wallet, forcing her to pay the fifteen dollar fare) to Central Coast Pharmaceuticals, the both of them laying back on the hood of Gus' company car while Shawn made the call.

"Hi, this is Doctor Leopold Fitzgerald from Santa Barbara Animal Hospital," Shawn lied smoothly into the phone to Gus' secretary. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for a Mr. Burton Guster. A woman has brought in his cat, Pickles, and I'm afraid the poor thing has a broken leg."

"Oh, my god! He just came out of nowhere!" Charlie exclaimed, being the unfortunate woman that had hit Mrs. Pickles with her bicycle. "I'm so sorry!"

"Alright, well you have a nice day," Shawn said to the secretary, after being assured that she would relay the message to Mr. Guster right away. Charlie and Shawn only had to wait two minutes before Gus came storming out of the building, finding the two of them on his car.

"So now I have a cat," Gus scowled at them.

"And orange tabby," Shawn said, sitting up while Charlie tucked her arms behind her head, hoping she was getting a slight tan from lying in the sun while Shawn continued. "Last Christmas, you made her a tiny Santa hat. It was adorable."

"Fantastic," Gus groaned out. "I can't even have a make-believe boy cat."

"Gus, a boy cat wouldn't serve our purposes nearly as well," Shawn said, indicating to himself and Charlie, who waggled her fingers at Gus, not even bothering to remove her sunglasses. "The next time we need you, Pickles is having kittens."

"'Pickles?'" Gus asked incredulously.

"'Mrs. Pickles' is her full name," Shawn explained. "Though I'm not actually sure cats can marry outside of Boston"

Charlie snorted at his ridiculous train of thought, nearly wishing she had work today (she was also very relieved she had the day off from the library and the garage) just so she wouldn't have to put up with Shawn's crazy shit today.

"Yeah, well, in a related issue, I'm blocking both your numbers of all the phones in the office," Gus snarled out, heading back for the front door.

"If you think that'll work, I think it's endearing," Shawn said with a grin.

"Totally cute," Charlie said with a chuckle, sitting up, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head.

"In the meantime, aren't you the least bit curious about who was there when they put the ring in the hotel safe?" Shawn asked Gus, while Charlie raised an eyebrow, wishing she hadn't left her cigarettes in her apartment.

"Wait a minute," Gus said, walking back to his two friends. "This is a safecracking case?"

"Did we forget to mention that?" Shawn said as he got off the car and opened the passenger door, calling shotgun without saying a word and Charlie glared at him as she, too, hoped off and climbed into the backseat.

"Our bad," Charlie said to Gus sarcastically before pulling the door shut.

"What kind of safe?" Gus asked, a little too eagerly in Charlie's opinion and she snorted in amusement at the company she kept.

"The, uh…Hydra 700?" Shawn asked, looking to Charlie for conformation.

She nodded and said, "Yup, the Hydra 700. Got that tid bit of info off of the file while Lassie wasn't looking."

"Ooh, Lassie! I like that!" Shawn exclaimed, grinning widely.

"Thank you, thank you, I came up with it myself," Charlie said, taking a mock bow. "I mean, didn't you notice how he always seems to bark at people?"

"Wait a minute," Gus interrupted, his mouth wide open. "The 700 is out? That's impossible. Nobody could have cracked it."

"I haven't even told you about the wall sensors," Shawn said, closing his door with a smirk to Charlie that told her 'hook, line, and sinker.'

"Can we be done by 3:00?" Gus said, looking at the building he should have been inside, working.

"Yes," Shawn said, after thinking for a moment; Charlie knew that they wouldn't be done by three and that Gus was screwed, but was amused by this thought, as he had ditched her at the gym. The entire drive back to the hotel, Charlie sat behind Gus, tapping the back of his head, her and Shawn sniggering the whole time.

"Will you stop that?!" Gus finally exploded.

"No," Charlie growled at him. "Maybe next time you won't fucking ditch me at the gym with this loser's ass," she said, indicating to Shawn.

"Hey!" Shawn cried out, pouting like a five-year-old.

"Deal with it, dude," Charlie said, crossing her arms over her chest and flicking her sunglasses back over her eyes.

Arriving at the hotel (to Gus' relief; his head was getting sore from Charlie's abuse), Charlie strutted into the lobby like she owned the place, taking note of all the officers prowling the place.

"The safe room, right behind that door," Shawn told Gus, indicating to the door behind the Registration Desk that was taped off with police tape and past all the officers.

"What is all this?" Gus asked in total disbelief. "I thought this was a safe job."

"Heh, I wish it was just a safe job," Charlie snorted in amusement, thinking about Lassiter's very ridiculous idea.

"Oh, uh, Lassiter has this insane idea that this is an elaborate heist, like on par with Ocean's Eleven, or Thomas Crown, or, uh…the one where they kill Donald Sutherland in the first ten minutes. Remake. Uh…" Shawn said, struggling to think of the movie.

"The Italian Job," Charlie supplied, thinking of the very hunky Mark Wahlberg.

"Yes! Thank you, Charles!" Shawn exclaimed, grinning. That was, until Chief Vick came up behind them and started speaking.

"Mr. Spencer. Mr. Guster. Ms. Matthews. What a surprise," Chief Vick said sarcastically, not really surprised at all to see them.

"Chief!" Shawn exclaimed, spinning around to face the woman with a very large grin. "Lookin' good. You're probably wondering—"

"I sent an Officer down to the high school to take a look at your secretary suspect," the Chief interrupted, not letting Shawn finish his flattering. "She cracked. He didn't even get the first question out."

"Really?" Shawn asked, totally surprised before he was nudged by both Gus and Charlie, one on each side of him and he scurried to cover. "'Cause I…envisioned that being harder."

"Yet I don't recall asking you to come down her to the de la Cruz," Vick said, raising an eyebrow at the trio.

"Well, we have reason to believe this case goes in a completely different direction," Gus said, trying to be smooth, but it just came off as slightly creepy.

"Huh," Vick said and then she had a slightly pleading look in her eyes. "Let me be perfectly clear. I didn't see you and we didn't talk. Call me if you have something."

"I love her," Shawn said as she waddled away and Charlie snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," Gus said as the trio crossed the lobby to the Registration desk. The clerk waved at Shawn and Charlie and Charlie groaned, not at all looking forward to talking to the overly-eager man again.

"He knows you?" Gus asked in surprise.

"Unfortunately," Charlie groaned before slapping on a grin on her face for the case's sake

"I had to lay some groundwork for the both of us," Shawn said, indicating to himself and Charlie. "He doesn't believe in psychics. This is Plan 'B'."

"Chief Inspector Shawn, Chief Inspector Charlotte, how are you both?" the clerk asked exuberantly.

Charlie and Shawn both shushed him, Shawn said, "We're undercover. Not even the American police know we're in on this."

"I'm sorry," the clerk said, stammering. "I…I blew it again. A…and after you both brought me into your confidence."

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Charlie said quickly, using a British accent that was, frankly, horrible, terrified that the guy would suddenly burst into tears on them.

"Hey, Bobby, it's fine," Shawn soothed. "Believe me, these other Interpol guys are very appreciative of what you're doing here."

"How long will you need?" Bobby the clerk asked, picking up a binder that had a very large Union Flag covering the back of it and Charlie tried very hard not to laugh.

"Just as we discussed," Shawn said. "Five minutes, tops." He and Charlie took turns shaking Bobby's hand. "You're my man."

"Thanks," Charlie said, winking at Bobby, who flushed and walked away, leaving Shawn, Gus, and Charlie free to walk behind the counter, which is just what they did.

"Interpol?" Gus asked in disbelief.

"His idea," Charlie said, pointing at Shawn.

"That's right," Shawn said, puffing out his chest as he used the computer behind the Reception Desk. "Missing ring division. I was recruited out of North Africa when I was fifteen."

"He told Bobby that I'm from Hamburg, Germany," Charlie said with a snort.

"You could have at least used a British accent like Charlie did," Gus said, looking at his female friend. "Though it was terrible."

"Hey," Charlie exclaimed, punching his arm, making him wince.

"Oh, please, Gus," Shawn said in a perfect British accent. "I started with a British accent and then seamlessly slipped…" he suddenly dropped the accent, speaking normally once again and Charlie rolled her eyes at his antics. "…into my fake American one. Apparently, being from Germany, Charlie shouldn't use an American accent at all; it's even worse than her fake British one. Bobby gave us some pointers. Apparently you Americans say 'howdy' a lot." He noticed a very pretty woman walk by and said, "Howdy," watching her.

"What are you doing?" Gus asked, slapping one arm while Charlie smacked him on the back of his head.

"Uh, a list," Shawn said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pants pocket, showing it to Gus. "I made a list of suspects after attending Lassiter's briefing."

"He let you two in his briefing?" Gus asked in shock.

"He does when you're in the air shaft," Shawn said with a laugh while Charlie shuddered and mumbled something about 'fucking tight spaces.'

"All your suspects are in the wedding party," Gus observed while reading the list.

"Look, the only ones who knew they put that ring in the safe were at the rehearsal dinner," Shawn said.

"So it was an inside job," Gus realized.

"Looking like it," Shawn said.

"Fucking rich people, man," Charlie grumbled, shaking her head at these morons.

"You're making keys?" Gus asked, just realizing what Shawn and Charlie were doing. Charlie was handing him the blanks while he loaded them into the computer, making copies of master keys.

"Shawn, you can't do that," Gus hissed at his friend, looking around to make sure they didn't get caught.

"Of course I can," Shawn insisted. "I worked at the Hampton Inn for that three-day weekend in Austin when we were nineteen. I know you remember that. Gus, this is so easy. Try making a key."

"Pussy," Charlie taunted, causing Gus to turn his death glare from Shawn to her. Gus refused to acknowledge either of them as they walked down the hallway, looking at the room numbers before Shawn spotted the one he was looking for and stopped, using his key, which worked perfectly.

"Sweet," Charlie grinned, loving the rule-breaking, while Gus looked like he was ready to pass out.

"Dudes, I rule," Shawn said, looking inside the room. "Nope. Innocent. Let's move."

He closed the door behind them and Gus instantly protested. "What are you talking about? We haven't even stepped foot in there."

"Gus, do you need the remedial course? Really?" Shawn asked as he rolled his eyes and opened another door.

"Yeah, Gus, really?" Charlie mocked with a snort. "The man knows what he's doing."

"Uncle Leo left his wallet on the table," Shawn observed. "Criminals are sneaky, jaded, suspicious people. They're smart and defensive. This guy has a reason to be trusting. Can we go now?"

"He just told you, Gus," Charlie mocked her black friend with a smirk and Gus glared at her as he motioned with his hand for Shawn to continue. Shawn just grinned as he opened the door across the hall.

"And thus, dear Guster, the wedding party," Charlie whispered to Gus, teasing him.

"Shawn?" the bride, Bethany, said in shock, staring at the trio, along with the other members of the family and wedding party.

"Guys," Shawn said smoothly, lying through his teeth. "Hey. Uh, your door was open."

"Oh, it was?" Dylan, the groom, asked, bewildered.

"Yes, and I was worried that something horrible had happened," Shawn said, acting totally concerned and if Charlie didn't know Shawn, she'd think it was actually genuine. "You're…you're okay?"

"Yeah," Dylan said, taking his fiancé's hand. "Yeah."

"I told you guys we didn't have to come in here," Shawn said to Gus and Charlie with relief. "They're fine. Everybody's fine. These are my associates, Gus and Charlie. You can just call them 'Peter Panic' and 'Mary, Mary, quite consternation'."

Dylan got up and reached out to shake both of their hands, respectively, and Gus said, "How you doing?"

Charlie went with the more her greeting and said, "'Sup?"

"So, you're both psychic, too?" Dylan asked Gus and Charlie, genuinely curious.

"Well…" Gus said, trying to seem modest.

"No," Charlie said flatly, making Gus glare at her.

"Gus here is a safe expert," Shawn said. "Yes, he subscribes to 'The Safecracker,' a safecracking…comic book. And Charlie here is my computer specialist."

"It's an online magazine," Gus defended his nerdism. "And it's a trade publication."

"And I'm not a professional or anything," Charlie said, shrugging her shoulders, as Shawn walked over to Lacey, the bridesmaid. "It's more of a hobby."

"Excuse me for saying so, but how exactly do you figure into this legal family?" Shawn asked Lacey in a flirty tone as he sat beside her; Charlie rolled her eyes at Shawn hitting on just about any woman.

"I started my criminal law degree," Lacey explained to him. "Then I came to my senses, went to Europe, painted, slept, ate, sank a boat. Disappointed?" she asked Shawn as he gasped.

"Besotted," he corrected her with a gaping mouth.

"We'd like to speak to the best man, if possible," Gus said, getting them back on track.

"So would we," Dylan admitted. "Any ideas where he is?"

"We haven't seen him since the night of the sixth," Lacey said, looking worried.

"That's the night the ring disappeared," Shawn said, frowning.

"The florist quit," Bethany said, looking very stressed and like she was going to cry at any moment; Charlie was ready to sprint from the room if that happened—she didn't do crying people very well. "So after we dropped the ring off at the safe, we had to wrap bouquets all night in our suite."

"Everybody except Jack," Dylan said as his fiancé sat next to Shawn.

"Do you think he's a suspect?" Gus asked with a frown, which was exactly what Charlie had been thinking the entire time.

"No, we just think he's lazy," Dylan said, as Attorney General Maxwell came in through the adjourning room, a wrapped gift in his hands. "Hey, Dad, this is Shawn Spencer. He's the psychic I told you about."

Shawn stood and shook the AG's hand as Maxwell said, "I know. Let's talk." He yanked Shawn by the arm, pulling him towards the door, an arm around Shawn's shoulders. Charlie seethed, seeing red, at anyone treating her friend like that and the only thing that stopped her from ripping that arm out of Maxwell's socket was Gus gently putting an arm on her shoulder, holding her back. The pair of them followed after Shawn and Maxwell, listening in on their conversation. "Son, I'm very comfortable with the current direction of the investigation. So let's let the real police department do their job."

"Sir, believe me, I am only here to help," Shawn said, trying to sweet-talk Maxwell, who opened the door for the trio, ready to show them out. Both Charlie and Gus rolled their eyes at Shawn's antics and Charlie had calmed down considerably. "In fact, I was actually hoping to discuss—"

"I'm glad you understand," Maxwell interrupted and politely shoved Shawn out the door, Gus and Charlie following him, closing the door in their faces.

"The guy shook my hand like I stole something," Shawn whined as he shook his hand around in the air in order to restore the circulation.

"Oh, don't be such a pussy," Charlie scoffed at him, snatching the key from him when he went to open a door a little ways down the hall and inserted the key in the door. Before she could open it, though, Gus knocked on the door.

"See? That's why I can't do this job alone," Shawn said cheerfully, ignoring Charlie's 'pussy' comment, watching in approval as his two friends basically did his work for him. Rolling her eyes, Charlie opened the door and went inside, Shawn and Gus following.

"Blech," Charlie commented, wrinkling her nose at all the orange in the room; it was a disgusting amount of orange.

"Wow," Shawn said, also looking around. "That is about as orange as you can get."

"Which suspect's room is this?" Gus asked as he shut the door.

"Lassiter's," Shawn answered as he started to go through the food basket that was sitting on the counter in the kitchen and took an apple.

"Ooh! Food!" Charlie squealed (almost too girlishly, which was very unlike her) and bee-lined for the food basket and snatched up a pear, moaning in delight as she took a bite.

"Well, that's uncomfortable," Shawn said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Charlie's comeback was to flip him off, her mouth too full of food to say anything.

"The head detective?" Gus asked in shock. "He has his own room?"

"Perhaps paid for by the city," Shawn suggested.

"No," Gus said, putting his hands up in the air. "No. This has gone too far. We're not staying."

"Actually, we are," Charlie said with a mischievous grin. "I can hear the shower calling my name. Excuse me, boys."

"No, Charlie, no!" Gus called after her, but she ignored it, helping herself to fresh towels in the bathroom, cheerfully stripping off her clothes before using the amazing steam shower ( _Lassiter_ _really went all out when he got a hotel room_ , she thought to herself but then scolded herself for thinking of the detective while in the shower).

Thirty minutes (and a very hot shower) later, Charlie stepped out with a happy sigh and redressed in her clothes (sans panties; that would just be _blech_ ) and reemerged into the room, saying, "Guys, I really want to install one of these bitching showers in my apartment."

"We'll get right on that," Gus said snidely, still standing in the small kitchen, looking very uncomfortable, while Shawn was lounging on the couch, reading a file and eating room service food.

"Ah, you read my mind," Charlie said, her eyes wide and her mouth watering as she picked up a burger that was on a plate and stuffed a huge bite in her mouth. "The only thing that would make this better would be a whiskey."

"Over on the kitchen counter," Shawn said with a grin and Charlie nearly ran over and poured two fingers into a tumbler, moaning after she took a sip.

"Ooh, that's good," she said with a sigh. "Shawn, you are the best."

"Oh, the whiskey wasn't me," Shawn said. "It was already here; apparently Lassie likes it, too."

"Hmm," Charlie hummed, turning her attention back to her burger, Gus glaring daggers at her. "Don't hate on the food," she told Gus, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Whatever, let's just get out of here," Gus snarled at them, looking like he was itching to run.

"Okay, fine," Shawn agreed. "I think I've got all from these files that I can."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere without these," Charlie said, taking her burger and glass of whiskey with her as they left the room and got into the elevator.

"In Lassiter's photo, there didn't appear to be a mark on that safe," Gus said as they entered the lobby, Shawn eating a cheese Danish. "I don't care how good you are, you don't crack a Hydra without leaving some sort of visible residue. We need to see that safe."

"That's going to be a little difficult," Shawn said, indicating to all the officers that were blocking the door to the safe room.

"I can distract them," Charlie said with a smirk, using her forearms to push up her breasts slightly.

"Oh, no, I've got another idea," Shawn said with a grin and then turned to Gus. "How close do you need to be?"

Having finished her burger, Charlie was nearly drooling over the apple pie that was sitting on the counter in the hotel kitchen as she, Shawn, and Gus snuck past the employees to get to the dumbwaiter.

"Is there a secret back door through the kitchen?" Gus asked incredulously.

"No, we're going to take the air vents," Shawn said, ignoring Charlie's 'oh, hell, no!' "Unfortunately, both my access points are blocked by Santa Barbara's finest."

"You think I'm going in there?" Gus asked disbelievingly as they stopped at the dumbwaiter.

"You know you want to," Shawn taunted him.

"Two words," Charlie snarled at Shawn. "Fuck. No."

"I'm with Charlie," Gus said. "Not in this suit."

"Do you want to see the safe or not?" Shawn asked Gus, knowing full and well that there was no way he was going to get Charlie in the air vents again. "Look, this'll be easy. We take this dumbwaiter up to the grate, pop the screen, crawl right through the shafts. Three rights and a left. We check out progress through the vents. And Charlie can stay here and keep watch for us."

"Shit!" Charlie exclaimed as Shawn opened the dumbwaiter and saw a body sitting inside. Gus put a hand over his mouth and whimpered, moving to stand behind Charlie.

"Isn't it kind of weird how the body's just shoved in here?" Shawn asked, tilting his head to see everything. Charlie noticed the blood dripping from the ear and wondered how the man died.

"No, what's weird is there's a dead guy in a dumbwaiter and we're standing here staring at it, waiting for somebody to find us. Let's go!" Gus said, still whimpering from behind Charlie's shoulder.

"This is Lassiter's suspect," Shawn realized, looking at the guy's nametag.

"So what d'you wanna do, call the cops?" Charlie said sarcastically, seeing how well that little sweetheart would go.

"Shawn, close the hatch and keep your voice down," Gus hissed out. "You, too, Charlie. I don't want to explain how we got in here."

"I just need to see one thing," Shawn said, getting ready to get close to examine the body again. His cell phone rang, then, and he and Gus fumbled through Shawn's pockets to quickly answer it while Charlie just huffed and muttered, "Children."

"Uh, hello," Shawn answered and just by the exasperated look on his face (he always had the same one on his face), Charlie could tell it was Henry Spencer. "Dad, hey!" Shawn greeted and Charlie smirked to herself. "Going to have to call you back."

"I hate once sided conversations," Charlie grumbled to Gus, who nodded.

"Dad, I'm a little busy right now," Shawn said into the phone and then after a pause, said, "Really tough to be sure." Another pause as Charlie was sure that Henry was ranting at Shawn. "You're right. Can I please call you back, Dad?" Pause. "Tonight. Uh, no. Tomorrow." Charlie let out a sigh, waving her hand to finish up the conversation. "So easy. Anything else?" Pause. "Nope, I'm good. Actually, wait, I do have one question." Charlie was sure Henry gave his go ahead to asking the question because next, Shawn asked, "How long does it take before a dead body starts to smell bad?"

Shawn pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at it with a kicked puppy-dog look on his face. "He hung up on me," he whined to Charlie and Gus.

"Whatever," Charlie snorted, taking a rag to wipe down their fingerprints—she wasn't going down for murder. "Let's get out of here."

They were leaving through the bar and Gus, always the worrywart, asked, "Did you wipe our fingerprints off?"

"Of course we did," Shawn said, while Charlie snorted at Gus. "We were never there."

"But you were and you saw us wipe down our fingerprints," Charlie said, and Gus glared at her.

"Shut up, Charlie," Gus snarled before saying, "We need to call the Chief soon. If Dietrich was a part of this, he's not anymore."

"Hey, Juliet," Charlie greeted with a smile as both detectives (Charlie sent a flirtatious smirk to Lassiter, who blushed) entered the room just as they were leaving. Lassiter scowled at them and grumbled, "Why is it the Attorney General has to call me wondering why some civilian is wondering around, grilling his entire family?"

"Wait a second," Shawn input. "The Attorney General has your number? What, are you guys tight? Give it up. What's the story?"

"I doubt there is a story, Shawn," Charlie said to Shawn with a chuckle. "He probably only has his number for emergency reasons. The AG most likely told him to delete it after this case is over. Am I right?" she asked Lassiter who glared at her, answering her question.

"He also told me to keep you out of here by any means necessary," Lassiter growled, turning his attention away from Charlie to grip Shawn's shoulders tightly. "Which opens up an entire world of exciting possibilities for me personally." He pushed Shawn forward and Charlie grabbed Lassiter's wrist, snarling at him, "I don't think so, sweetheart."

Shawn groaned out and jerked his body around towards the kitchen as he started having a 'vision.'

"Gus! Charlie!" Shawn called out as he slammed his body all over the place, looking like he was having a seizure. Charlie took Gus' hand and pulled him into the kitchen after the 'psychic,' Lassiter and Juliet following after them.

"Oh, it's too much! It's too much! Too much!" Shawn cried out, his eyes squeezed shut and Lassiter reached for his gun.

"You're not going to shoot him, are you?" Juliet asked warily.

"I haven't decided," Lassiter growled.

"No, he isn't," Charlie glared at Lassiter, stepping right in front of him, her finger pointed right at his nose, making him go cross-eyed.

"Oh, me ear! Gus, Charlie, my ear!" Shawn yelled, slapping his left hand over his left ear, the same one on the body that had blood coming out of it.

"Oh, for the love of Mike!" Lassiter barked out, trying to push past Charlie. "You are not going to escape, so will you just give it up?"

Charlie got caught in the middle of Lassiter trying to grab Shawn, tripping over her feet, and was sandwiched in between Lassie and Shawn, and not in the good way.

"What the fuck?!" she cried out, trying to move as Shawn kept twisting around, grabbing at utensils and pots (and once, accidentally grabbed one of Charlie's breasts).

"Give it up!" Lassiter scowled as Shawn pressed a towel over Lassiter's face (this time Lassiter grabbed Charlie's breast blindly—though this time she didn't mind).

"Check the dumbwaiter! Open the dumbwaiter! Detective O' Hara!" Shawn cried out. Charlie fell to the floor, rolling out of the way as Lassiter tried to lift Shawn up, but only managed one leg.

"Dumbasses," Charlie spat out brushing herself off after she stood up as Juliet opened the dumbwaiter, causing the body to fall out against Juliet.

"Oh, my god!" she cried out as she tried push the body back into the dumbwaiter. "Lassiter! Lassiter!"

Lassiter let go of Shawn, a look of surprise and total dumbfoundment written all over his face at the sight of the body in the dumbwaiter. Charlie pulled Shawn towards her, making a big show (more like rubbing it in Lassiter's face) of brushing Shawn's clothes off, but Lassie wasn't paying attention whatsoever. Shawn fought Charlie's grip off of his shirt, looking like a girl in a fight, waving his hands dramatically in the air.

"Lassiter—get over here!" Juliet yelled out, snapping Lassiter out of his stupor at Shawn actually being right, sending him into action, saving his partner from the cadaver.

Shawn, Gus, and Charlie chose to wait in the kitchen for the coroner to arrive and examine the body and the entire time, Charlie sent Lassiter smug looks that said, 'see? Sometimes you're wrong.' Lassiter sent her dark glares (with Juliet elbowing him in the ribs, scolding him to be nice) while the forensics took photos of the dumbwaiter and the coroner zipped the body up in a body bag.

"Let's go," Lassiter snapped at the coroner, who mashed his lips together in frustration and Charlie let out a smirk, as she could relate. "Get him in the van. Come on. You three, out."

He tried to grab Shawn by the back of the jacket to force him out of the kitchen, but Charlie got to Lassiter first, snatching his wrist and raising an eyebrow. Lassiter growled at her before gripping her arm in a vise-like grip (she let out a small cry of surprise at Lassiter's suddenness) and forcing along the kitchen.

"Don't we get to wait around for the autopsy?" Shawn asked, knowing that Charlie could take care of herself if she wanted to and was very grateful to her for saving him from Lassiter's wrath.

"We'll call you if we need you," Lassiter snipped at Shawn.

"Which is not fucking likely," Charlie grumbled, trying to free her arm, but Lassiter's grip was too tight. Right at that moment, AG Maxwell entered the kitchen, his eyes narrowed on Lassiter.

"Detective," Maxwell greeted.

"Sir," Lassiter replied, letting go of Charlie (she rubbed her shoulder with a glare in Lassiter's direction, knowing it would bruise) to walk over to the dumbwaiter with Maxwell.

"Well, that ought to keep them busy for a while," Shawn commented, gently elbowing Charlie to take her attention from murdering Lassiter, and the trio left the kitchen, making their way back up to Lassiter's room. Both Shawn and Charlie relaxed on the bed, the television on (Charlie thought of all the nasty things she could smear into Lassiter's bed as revenge) while Gus stood nervously in the kitchen.

"Can we at least watch the tape in another room besides Lassiter's?" Gus asked, looking to the door as if any moment, Lassiter would burst in to the room and arrest them all.

Charlie snorted as she helped herself to the food basket that was sitting on the bed between her and Shawn, pulling out chocolate turtles (her mouth was already watering at the thought of caramel and walnuts and chocolate) and opened her can of Dr. Pepper that she had snagged from the mini fridge on her way to the bed. On her feet, instead of her shoes, were the complementary slippers that the hotel had provided for Lassie's room, and Shawn also had his shoes off.

"Gus, he's not coming back," Shawn tried to sooth his friend.

"And who cared if he did," Charlie said, grinning as she envisioned the thought of Lassiter's bright red face (or maybe even purple) as he caught them in his room.

"Are you sure about that?" Gus asked, glaring at Shawn.

"Yes," Shawn said, very sure of himself. "Didn't you check his messages? Are you going to have some cookies?"

"No," Gus said, crossing his arms over his chest uncomfortably.

"Ooh, don't mind if I do," Charlie said, helping herself to a cookie; she'd always had a bit of a sweet tooth.

"You want to finish my banana?" Shawn tried again.

"That's what he said," Charlie cracked off, chortling and Shawn snorted at her joke. "Hey, you fell right into that one when you said 'finish my banana'."

"That's not funny, Charlie," Gus snapped. "And I want to leave."

Charlie and Shawn watched the security footage from the safe room, laughing at how wasted the best man was.

"Dude, what an idiot," Charlie chuckled, shaking her head as she helped herself to a blueberry muffin, sighing in comfortable bliss.

"Look at the best man," Shawn said, agreeing with Charlie. "He's smashed. And look at his hair. It's horrible."

"Absolutely dreadful," Charlie laughed.

"That's it?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Hmm," Shawn hummed. "We have to watch it again. It's open!" he called, as there was a knock on the door.

"'It's open'?" Gus asked, confused; Charlie had to admit, she was also confused as to who was at the door. "What are you doing?"

"Yes, Shawn, what are you doing?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend. The door opened to reveal Dylan, carrying a six-pack of beer. Beer wasn't Charlie's favorite drink, but she wouldn't say no to a free one.

"Oh, what, am I early?" Dylan asked, looking around the empty room.

"Big Dyl!" Shawn exclaimed. "You're right on time." He then turned to Gus and Charlie and said, "Did I forget to mention that we're hosting the bachelor party?"

"Well, I'm out," Charlie said, getting off of the bed. She walked to the kitchen counter and snagged a beer, muttering, "Just gonna take one of these and I'll see you guys later."

Charlie left the room, sipping at her beer and wandered the hallways, eventually winding up in the bar of the hotel, opening a tab that she would put on her credit card, feeling like splurging all of a sudden. She was on her third whiskey (having already finished her beer) before she decided to call it quits and head home.

She ignored a text from Shawn (some shit about going to the bachelorette party) as she took a cab home (no way was she going to walk home after three whiskeys and a beer). She was looking forward to a very quiet and peaceful bath and then sleeping-in in the morning (she didn't have a shift at the library the next day and her shift at the garage didn't start until the next evening) without Shawn or Gus there to annoy the shit out of her.

Suddenly exhausted when she entered her apartment, Charlie forewent the bath and dropped straight onto her bed without undressing and promptly passed out.

-{*}-

Charlie groaned as simultaneously, the sun shone brightly in her eyes and her phone blared out 'Carry on My Wayward Son' by Kansas, right by her ear from her bedside table where she had placed it the night before.

"What?" she growled as she answered the phone, tired and hung over (only slightly—she'd still need to take an Advil with her morning coffee).

"Good morning, Starshine! The Earth says 'hello!'" Shawn's annoyingly chirpy voice exclaimed in her ear.

"What the fuck d'you want?" Charlie grumbled out, brushing her hair out of her eyes and mouth, wishing she could just go back to bed.

"The wedding starts in two hours and I just thought you'd like to be here for my big reveal of who the thief/murderer is. Oh, and wear a dress. See you soon!" Shawn said, hanging up before Charlie could even get a word out.

"Little fucker," she sighed to herself, nearly having to pry herself out of bed just to get to the bathroom. She took a hot shower (so hot, she was the color of a lobster by the time she was done) and then meandered into the kitchen to start her coffee. Though her stomach felt like losing what little contents it actually had in it at the thought of eating, Charlie made herself two fried eggs and four pieced of bacon (bacon was the best) and sat at her little kitchen table, gulping down her coffee before starting on her breakfast.

Primping was never one of her things (she was more of a tomboy), but she did have two dresses in her closet for special occasions. After looking at the white lace summer dress and rejecting it (she at least knew that no one was supposed to wear white to a wedding—that was reserved for the bride only), she put on her other dress that was teal and gray striped and looked like it belonged in an office workspace rather than her closet. She had to dig for a while, but she finally found her only pair of heels that weren't her boots and slid the nude stilettos on her feet.

She kept her makeup simple and twisted her hair up into a messy, but stylish bun, before exiting her apartment, grabbing her satchel and leather jacket on her way out (she made sure she had a gun securely in her purse before locking her door). Wishing she had either a car or a motorcycle as she hailed a cab in the street below her apartment (her cab fares were getting ridiculously expensive) and rode to the hotel, her head pounding horribly. She popped another Advil, grumbling under her breath to herself about how much of an idiot Shawn was and how much she'd rather be back in bed.

She spotted Shawn in the lobby, looking pretty good wearing a nice suit with a white shirt and a grey tie, and walked up behind him, saying, "Okay, I'm here. Can we go in, now? The sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get out of my dress."

"Wow, Charles, you clean up nice," Shawn said with a grin, holding out his arm for her to take. "M'lady."

"You are such a fucking dork," Charlie said, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"And there's the Charlie we know and love," Shawn smirked. "Glad to see we didn't lose you in the dress and heels."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Shawn," Charlie said, rubbing her head. "I'm so not in the mood for this. And don't call me Charles."

Shawn led Charlie into the overly (in Charlie's opinion) decorated chapel, where the ceremony was going to take place and they sat near the front. Charlie bit her lip as Dylan and Bethany exchanged their vows, fighting back tears at the sweetness of it (she was secretly a romantic at heart). She was startled as Gus came down their row and sat next to Shawn, whispering to him, "Nice suit. Where'd you get that from?"

"Gus, don't underestimate me, or my wardrobe," Shawn returned whispered. "Or Charlie's for that matter."

"Leave me out of this," Charlie hissed at the two children, while Gus' eyes widened slightly at the sight of his female friend in a dress (he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Charlie in a dress) before spotting the tag of Shawn's suit hidden under the lapel.

"Then you might want to remove—" Gus started, tugging on the tag to pull it off, but Shawn interrupted him.

"Don't pull that off," Shawn hissed. "Don't, don't, don't. I'll just slide it…" he trailed off as he tucked the tag right back where it had been.

"They're here for you," Gus said, talking about Lassiter and Juliet. Charlie glared at the two for interrupting the ceremony for her and turned slightly to see Lassiter out of the corner of her eye, holding up his card key for his room.

"Serves the bastard right," Charlie said smugly.

"Charlie's right," Shawn said, grinning. "Besides, they won't get me if I solve this case first."

"Good plan," Gus said sarcastically. "You've got about five minutes."

"I already know who did it," Shawn said casually.

"No, you don't," Gus argued. "How is that possible? Between all that, when you said your girlfriend just had an aneurysm because she got the wrong bouquet, you had the time to put all that out of your mind and solve the case?"

"Gus…" Shawn said, breaking Gus off his rant.

"What?" Gus asked in confusion.

"Shut up," Charlie hissed out.

"And now for a moment of silence," the minister said and everyone, including Charlie, bowed their heads and silence filled the chapel.

"Gus, I seriously do have a guess," Shawn whispered lowly and Charlie reached over and smacked his leg, trying to shut him up.

"Probability of being right?" Gus hissed back. He, too, got a hit from Charlie, as well as a glare.

"I don't know, high sixties?" Shawn said.

"Oh, my god!" Charlie hissed at the two. "Can you not shut up for five minutes?!"

"Close your mouth," Gus said to Shawn, sending Charlie an apologetic look when she gave him a murderous glare when she thought he was talking to her.

"But the person's in the room," Shawn said and a woman sitting two pews in front of them shushed Shawn and Gus.

"Sorry," Charlie whispered back to the woman, wishing she could just smack their heads together from their stupidity.

"The thief could escape," Shawn whispered. "Shouldn't I stop the wedding?"

"Hell, no!" Charlie whispered, then realized that she had said that in a church and silently whispered a little prayer.

"Charlie's right," Gus hissed. "Under no circumstance are you allowed to stop this wedding."

"Don't you dare, Shawn," Charlie spat out in a low undertone, ready to knock him out if the need arouse.

"If there's any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace," the minister said, looking around the church.

"Shawn, don't!" Charlie said, yanking on his sleeve when he stood up after a pause. "Oh, god," she moaned out, putting her head in her hands.

"I have something," Shawn announced. "It's not necessarily marriage-related. I hope that's not a problem."

"Sir, please…" the minister pleaded and AG Maxwell turned around in his seat to glare at Shawn.

"Shit on a cracker," Charlie growled, muttering to Gus. "Can we pretend like we don't know him?"

"I know who stole the ring," Shawn blurted out, cutting off the minister from saying anything more.

"You cannot do this, Shawn," the maid of honor, Lacey, said. "This wedding has taken over a year to plan."

Shawn ignored her and put a hand to his head, eyes closed, as he had a 'vision' "I can see it. I can feel the ring." He opened his eyes, pausing for dramatic effect. "It's in this room. It's in the room. It's in this room."

Both Charlie and Gus worked together to pull Shawn down to their level; Charlie, because she was ready to murder him, Gus, because he had something to say.

"They wouldn't bring the stolen ring to the ceremony, you moron," Gus told Shawn in an 'I-know-more-than-you' voice.

"They would if they couldn't get to it till today," Shawn told them with a raised eyebrow and then stood again. "Lacey, I'm so sorry. And believe me when I say, I really, really, really wish it wasn't you."

"Me?" Lacey asked, a look of total bewilderment on her face, but Charlie could instantly see right through it and wanted to see the bitch go down for ruining her best friend's wedding. "Are you crazy? I'm the one who's done all the work."

"Yes, you are," Shawn agreed, "and we're all very impressed, especially my friend, Charlie, here, but it was also an excellent cover, wasn't it?"

"You are crazy, Shawn," Lacey glared at him. "And by the way, we're officially off for next Friday."

Shawn ignored this tid bit of information as he fell to his knees as his 'vision' hit him in full force. "Oh, boy! I can see it now! You're at the dinner table. They're announcing the engagement. You're thrilled, of course. You and Bethany have been best friends forever. Dad…Dad has a surprise for the happy couple. What could it be? Wait a minute. You didn't know the ring was going to Dylan."

Charlie stepped out into the isle and helped Shawn to his feet, as he pretended to be shaky from the effects of the 'vision.' He then resumed speaking, "You were always your grandmother's favorite, and you're the oldest girl. That ring should be yours, right? Right. You were counting on that ring. It was your future."

Charlie discreetly rolled her eyes as Shawn forcefully slid out of her grasp and onto his knees again, using her and a nearby guest to support himself.

"Sorry," he told the guest apologetically, acting like he couldn't help it at all. "I can see you plotting. I can see you plotting right there at the dinner table, but Dad….Dad throws a curveball." Charlie helped pick him up again and she decided that he owed her for picking his heavy ass up off the floor more than once. "No, it was a slider. He's overly cautious, because sometimes engagements end. Not you guys. It's okay. They're not letting go of the ring until the wedding, which means you have a very small window within which to grab it."

Bethany looked at Lacey, her eyes asking for the truth while she looked heartbroken that her best friend would betray her like this.

"Does all of this have anything to do with why these two shouldn't be married?" the minister asked in confusion, not quite sure what was going on.

"No, sir," Shawn said. "No, it doesn't at all, actually." Clearing his throat before wiggling around his ring finger on his left hand like an idiot (in Charlie's opinion), Shawn went off again. "Oh, boy! Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Of course, you insisted it be used during the rehearsal, so then you had your chance. While everyone else was fawning over the ring, you made one final adjustment. It looked like you just straightened it out and put it right back, but you never did, did you? No, Lacey, because you…have magic hands…which I was really looking forward to on Friday."

"Too much information," Charlie hissed in Shawn's ear, pinching his side.

"Everyone was fooled," Shawn continued on, ignoring Charlie, slinging an arm around her, as if he were using her as a crutch. "Everyone was fooled except…Dietrich Mannheim, who hadn't yet discovered how to use this information to his benefit."

"This is first-rate fiction, Shawn," Lacey scoffed out. "Unfortunately, there's no evidence."

"There would have been no evidence if you could have gotten away that night," Shawn corrected her. "But there was a problem." He staggered to a flower vase that was sitting on a pedestal as he groaned, dragging Charlie with him. She would have fallen flat on her face, had Shawn not been hanging onto her, making it look like his 'vision' was out of control. Charlie hid her unbelievable discomfort at being at the center of attention as Shawn sniffed the flowers and hugged the bouquet to his chest with one arm. "The florist. The florist bailed on you. The bouquets. You got a last-minute batch of materials, and the bouquets would now have to be crafted by hand. There was no other time but now. You looked for a way out, but there was none. You had a five-million dollar ring that was about to be discovered missing any minute hidden in your palm, and you were going to have to pull an all-nighter in a room with eight other people. You thought you could get back into the cooler later and grab it, but hey kept their flowers locked up."

Shawn took his arm from around Charlie and staggered to stand in front of Lacey, leaving Charlie to awkwardly retreat to the side of the chapel, out of view.

"So you had to have your specific bouquet or else," Shawn said, addressing Lacey to her face and Charlie could see the woman was starting to sweat and panic. "Lacey, you're not an unreasonable person. You're just a thief. Or at least you were a thief until Dietrich Mannheim called, told you that he was onto you. He wanted a piece of that action, too, or he was going to the police. You tried to talk him down, bur he got rough. It got ugly. It was all spinning out of control. Eventually, they were going to find that body, so you started laying out clues. You sent the police off in all directions, because you'd grown up hearing all crime stories. I would say that's fortuitous, because you knew just what to leave, didn't you?"

"I have worked eighteen hours a day on this wedding," Lacey snarled, finally breaking. "I have sacrificed my weekends. I will not be treated this way."

"Then show us your bouquet, Lacey," Shawn said, trying to persuade her. It didn't work. As Shawn turned back towards Lassiter and Juliet to start to mouth, 'She's the—', Lacey took off, making a run for it.

"Why do they always run?" Charlie commented to Gus after she walked back over to him (she was tired of standing off by herself), who nodded in agreement. "Seriously. It's not like they're going to get anywhere."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Shawn yelled out, his eyes wide. "She's running? In those heels, really?"

"I kinda want to chase that bitch down," Charlie said with a smirk, causing Gus to sigh in exasperation and roll his eyes before really thinking about it.

"We have to chase her, too?" Gus asked, his eyes wide at the thought of running.

"But we have no evidence except for that ring," Shawn said, motioning for Gus and Charlie to follow after him.

"If I catch that bitch, I'm gonna rip her fucking hair out," Charlie said venomously. "You don't do that kind of shit to your friends. I'd never do that to you guys," she reassured Gus and Shawn with a wicked grin before dumping her heels to sprint after Lacey. Shawn took off on his own, while Charlie and Gus, along with Lassiter, Juliet, and Chief Vick cut Lacey off, meeting her as the bitch bridesmaid turned a corner.

"Oh, no you don't!" Charlie shouted as Lacey spun on heel and ran the other way. Charlie let out a snarl before charging at Lacey, tackling her into the gift table. The bouquet went flying, and somehow, despite the totally stunned look on his face at seeing Charlie tackle someone (Lassiter, Juliet, and Chief Vick also had similar looks on their faces), caught the bouquet. He shook off his shock enough to dig his fingers under the wrapping around the stems to pull out the ring.

"Dude, you're next," Shawn commented as he finally showed up, coming from the same way Lacey had.

"Get up, bitch," Charlie growled, yanking Lacey to her feet, passing her off to the cops and then winced. Damn, some of those boxes were heavy and sharp and she was sure she was gonna have bruises on her ribs. Shawn handed her her heels and she slipped them on, balancing herself by putting a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "Right, well, I'll catch you guys later. I've got a shift at the library in just over thirty minutes and I don't have time to change out of my dress."

She started to head out of the lobby (once again having to spend money she didn't have on a taxi fare) when she heard a voice call out, "Hey, Matthews!" She spun around to see Lassiter approaching her with an indescribable look on his face.

"Yeah?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That was…uh…a nice tackle, Matthews," he stuttered, his face red before turning right back around and marched away from her. She raised both eyebrows in shock and let out a "huh," before leaving the hotel to hail a cab.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or any of the characters except for Charlie**

 **Read, review, and enjoy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Salt and Pepper**

 **Chapter Four**

 **A/N: Special thanks to NicoleR85, SeverusSnape'sLover, Ash, MiaR, Angelajp23, Team FreeWill2, and deathb4beauty for all of your wonderful reviews and thanks to all of you who favorited/followed this story.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Charlie!**

Charlie lay in her bed, asleep at nine in the morning, enjoying sleeping in for once, as she didn't have to work that day. She let out a snort and cursed out her friend, Shawn, in her sleep, as, unbeknownst to her, said friend was sitting in a chair by her bed, watching her sleep. The bright light of a beautiful Santa Barbara morning shone through the crack in her blue curtains just right, hitting her right in her eyes, waking her up.

She groaned, stretched, and pried her eyes open, only to let out a piercing scream, pulling her black, straight edge KA-BAR knife out from under her pillow, pointing it at her friend with bleary eyes, who raised his hands in surrender, a large, dorky grin on his face.

"Geez, Charlie, I didn't know you were that happy to see me," Shawn Spencer joked, his hands still in the air.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck?!" Charlie screeched, returning her knife to where it belonged, flinging back her gray and yellow chevron-striped comforter, ready to pummel Shawn into pancake-like goo on her floor.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Shawn said, backing up from Charlie, a bit of actual fear in his eyes (he knew he should have just called her, as Gus regularly suggested, but where was the fun in that?). "Wait, Charlie! We have a case! The Chief called and wants to see us in her office right away."

"This had better be a fucking good case or I'm gonna murder you," Charlie hissed at him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Now, get your ass out of my room and stay out of my shit."

She sighed and changed out of her shorts and tank top into a pair of red skinny jeans, a Blue Oyster Cult racerback tank top, and her combat boots. She stomped out into her living room, scowling when Shawn handed her a cardboard cup of coffee to her with a huge grin on his face.

"Gimme that," she growled, snatching the coffee from him, looking around for any of her possessions out of place. "Where's Gus?"

"Haven't called him, yet," Shawn said with a shrug.

"Right, let's go. You're paying for the cab," she said, storming out of her apartment, locking the door behind her.

"Sure…except I forgot my wallet at home," Shawn said, flinching when Charlie moved to strangle him with a furious look on her face.

"You owe me," she hissed at him, turning to the street to whistle for a cab to take them to the police station. Once in the station lobby, Shawn called Gus, telling him to meet them there in the next hour and marched into the Chief's office.

"Sorry, Chief," Charlie apologized when said Chief looked furious at the interruption, especially when Shawn had slammed her glass office door open. "Next time I'll get a leash for this one."

"Thank you, Miss Matthews," Chief Vick said, amused. "I'll ask the two of you to wait for me out here; I've got a meeting to go to and I'll be back soon to give you your new case."

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie said with a smirk, mock-saluting her. The Chief rolled her eyes in exasperation before walking away, leaving Shawn and Charlie on their own in her office, which was probably a bad thing. Charlie made herself comfortable in once of the armchairs that were in the corner of the office, kicking her feet up on the coffee table in front of her, while Shawn sat at the Chief's desk, likewise throwing up his feet, but onto her desk. Charlie slouched in the chair, reclining her head, and dozed off, snoring once in a while (she would violently deny it, while Shawn had taken a video of her on his cell phone {he would never tell her—he didn't want to be murdered}).

Forty minutes later, Charlie jerked awake as Gus burst into the office, exclaiming, "What the hell are you two doing?"

"What the fuck?!" Charlie screeched, trying to reach under her imaginary pillow for a knife that wasn't there. She wiped at her chin, trying to see if she had drooled, but it was dry (thank fuck for that). "What is wrong with you, Burton?" she snarled at Gus, causing him to flinch; he knew when he was in trouble with her—she used his first name. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, growling and muttering to herself.

"In answer to your question, Gus, I'm checking my baseball scores," Shawn said, very discreetly rolling his eyes over Charlie's behavior; if she caught him, he was a dead man walking. "My fantasy team is killing me."

"This is the Chief's office," Gus pointed out the obvious.

"Very good, Gus. Would you like a treat?" Charlie asked Gus sarcastically with a smirk on her lips.

"I know," Shawn told Gus, also smirking at his friend. "She runs the league." At Gus' exasperated look, Shawn rolled his eyes and said, "I'm kidding. She's in a meeting. She won't mind. Plus, we look really important hanging out in here. Gus, have you tried this chair?" Shawn stood up and pointed at the desk chair he had just occupied, showing Gus how many pillows were set in it. "It's a pregnancy chair." He sat back down as he said, "We have to get one for the office, immediately. My birthing canal has never felt so in line."

Charlie snorted at Shawn's ridiculousness (muttering out 'idiot') as Gus said in a panicked tone, "We need to get out of here."

"Sorry, I'm too comfortable to get up," Charlie snorted, making herself more comfortable in the chair, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair.

"Beside, she told Charlie and me to wait," Shawn said, puffing out his chest.

"For what?" Gus asked, genuinely curious as to what the Chief wanted.

"Gus, I'm not a mind reader," Shawn said with mock-offense.

"No, that's just what you tell everybody," Gus growled at Shawn.

"Oh, shut up, both of you!" Charlie snapped, opening her eyes after trying to doze off again; it was an impossible task with Shawn and Gus arguing like five-year-olds.

"I want you to try this chair," Shawn said to Gus, standing from said chair, after swallowing his fear of Charlie killing him.

"I'm not trying that chair, Shawn," Gus argued.

"I'll sit on the birthing ball," Shawn said, sitting on the giant ball in the room that Charlie had mistaken for an exercise ball. "I kid you not, that thing is like a refreshing waterfall cascading down your vertebrae. It might help with your stomach issues."

"Who told you I had stomach issues?" Gus asked, his eyes wide.

"I hacked your medical records," Charlie said with a smirk. "Consider it payback for ditching me at the gym last week."

"Also, uh, my nose? The vent in the bathroom? Air fresheners all over the place?" Shawn said with a snort.

"I'm trying a new medication for my lactose intolerance," Gus defended himself, walking around the desk.

"Which was also on your medical records," Charlie pointed out. "Too bad I didn't know that all those times I fed you cheese as a kid…oh, wait. I did!"

She cackled out a laugh as Shawn, with a grin, said, "I believe the problem is physical, and I think it can be cured by what I am now referring to as…'the magic springy bounce-up chair'."

Charlie straightened up suddenly as Officer McNabb entered the office with two cups, one in each hand, with a big goofy grin on his face.

"Hey, Shawn, Charlie," McNabb greeted them. "Smoothie and milkshake are here."

He handed the smoothie to Shawn and the milkshake to Charlie. She looked at the foam cup in confusion, not remembering ordering a milkshake, as she had been asleep at the time.

"When did I order this?" she asked McNabb in a slightly flirty tone, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, Shawn had me go get it while you were asleep," McNabb said, a light flush to his cheeks from her flirting.

"Pineapple?" Shawn asked McNabb, looking inside his cup, trying to ascertain the flavor.

"Of course," McNabb answered.

"Thanks, Buzz," Shawn said with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Charlie grinned, before taking a sip of her milkshake after McNabb had left. She then looked at Shawn with a confused look. "Oreo strawberry?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your favorite when you were a kid," he said, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal.

"And still is," Charlie said, happily drinking/eating the frozen treat. She started humming the milkshake song in her head ( _My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, And they're like, It's better than yours, Damn right it's better than yours_ ) before pausing to think to herself, _How the fuck do I even know this song_ and _Shit! It's stuck in my head, now!_

"You're having food delivered?" Gus asked incredulously.

"They were already going out," Shawn said simply.

"Oh, boy," Gus started in, highly annoyed with his two best friends. "I tell you…" he was so annoyed with the pair of them, he sat down in the Chief's chair and he immediately relaxed. "Wow," he managed to get out, making a weird face that just screamed, 'Bliss.'

"What did I tell you?" Shawn asked, holding out his pineapple smoothie for Gus to take. "Now, take a hit off this bad boy and complete the moment. You've earned it."

Charlie had enough foresight to see where this was going to suck down at much milkshake as she could, while humming, and then dropped her cup into the trashcan right by her feet just as Chief Vick walked into her office. She caught Gus, sitting in her chair, just as he was about to take a drink of the smoothie.

"What do you think this is, Mr. Guster?" Chief Vick asked, her hands on her hips. Charlie hiccupped, putting a hand over her mouth, and grimaced as she got a sudden brain freeze from drinking her milkshake too fast.

"I apologize," Shawn said, with an apologetic look on his face and Gus jumped out of the Chief's chair. "This will never happen again. Give me that!" he shouted at Gus, snatching the smoothie from him.

"Boys, out," Chief Vick ordered, pointing to across her desk, her face telling them to get their asses out from behind her desk.

"Gus, a smoothie?" Shawn mock-scolded Gus again, causing Charlie to roll her eyes in exasperation. "You know these things stain." He took a sip of _his_ pineapple smoothie with an appreciative hum. "Mmm. But they are very delicious. Chief, would you like some?"

"That's not my smoothie," Gus grumbled out as Shawn held the cup out to Chief Vick.

"I don't care whose smoothie it is," Chief Vick growled at Shawn and Gus. "I don't even remember why I asked you to stay now."

"You want us on that case, with the blonde woman," Shawn guessed, passing it off as a psychic vibe.

"No," Chief Vick said, waving her hand, as she tried to think through her 'pregnancy brain.'

"Mm-hm," Shawn hummed. "Wintersby. Willachek? Whistlerbottom."

"No, no, it's—" the Chief furrowed her eyebrows, thinking hard, but Shawn interrupted.

"Wilcroft," he guessed again.

"No, that's not…Okay, wait a minute," the Chief said, flashing her eyes at Shawn. "Were you listening in on my conversation?"

"I don't know if I heard it psychically or if I saw you walk by with her and Detective Lassiter, but I definitely heard the word 'psychic'," Shawn said, lifting a finger to his temple.

"The woman, Raylene, said she visits an occasional psychic," Chief Vick explained, giving Shawn an odd look. "She wasn't asking for one."

"Well, not in so many words," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders.

"If your head gets any larger, Shawn, you won't be able to fit through the door," Charlie snarked from her chair, tucking her legs underneath of her.

Chief Vick smirked, agreeing with Charlie, as she said, "No, not in any words. This is a bank robbery case. We don't need psychics for a bank robbery case."

"Bank robbery?" Shawn asked, intrigued now.

"Mm-hmm," the Chief hummed, and Charlie's curiosity was also peaked.

"I didn't read anything in the paper about a bank robbery," Shawn said with a frown.

"It was four years ago," the Chief explained.

"So it went unsolved?" Shawn asked.

"It was solved," Chief Vick said.

"So what's happened?" Charlie asked curiously. "Obviously something has for you guys to reopen the case."

"You're right, the case was closed," Chief Vick answered Charlie, not wanting to give them the details of the case.

"Well, then what does she need a psychic for?" Shawn asked and Gus jabbed him in the back. "Gus, that is a perfectly reasonable question."

"Thank you, Chief," Gus answered for Charlie and Shawn, indicating for Charlie to get up and leave with them. "We'll be leaving now."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Shawn said, refusing to leave, same as Charlie; she had gotten out of the chair and stood in front of the Chief's desk, hoping to catch a glimpse of some open file or some paperwork on the case. "I'm still confused."

"Her husband's partners are getting out of jail," Chief Vick explained. "This is a routine warning that we issue when someone may potentially be in danger."

"So you're not reopening the case, then?" Charlie asked.

"No, Miss Matthews, we're not," the Chief said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"So this is the part where we offer up out services," Shawn told the Chief.

"No, I think this is the part where we leave," Gus argued with a scowl.

"That's a good idea," the Chief agreed with Gus, wanting nothing more than to have the troublesome trio out of her office.

"But we—" Shawn started to say, before Chief Vick interrupted him, walking around her desk to usher them out of her office.

"Believe it or not, Mr. Spencer, crimes were solved long before you got here, and they continue to be solved when you're not around," the Chief said, and Charlie marveled at her strength, despite being very pregnant. "Oh, I remember what I wanted to tell you."

"What?" Shawn and Charlie both asked rather eagerly, Charlie bored out of her mind and desperately wanting something to do.

"Stay out of my chair," the Chief said with a smirk, shutting the door behind them and returning to her desk.

Charlie sighed in frustration, ready to punch a wall to let off some steam. Instead, she followed Shawn and Gus down the hall, heading towards the exit of the police station, mentally making plans to head to the firing range after stopping at home for a quick lunch.

"Bank robbers? Dudes, that's awesome," Shawn commented, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little kid on a sugar rush. Charlie let out a growl under her voice, muttering to herself about unfair police chiefs. "We should go find Lassiter and our future client."

"We got to go," Gus disagreed, shaking his head.

"Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Shawn," Charlie said, wincing, as if admitting that physically hurt her, but then she brightened up at a sudden thought. "And definitely yes to finding Lassiter," she said with a chuckle.

Shawn put his hand over his chest, gasping at Charlie's agreeing with him. "I didn't know you loved me that much, Charles," he cried out dramatically. That was until Charlie reached over and smacked him on the back of the head, accompanied with a, "Shut the fuck up, Shawn."

"Dude, this woman is on an eternal quest for a good psychic," Shawn turned back to trying to convince Gus to go along with him and Charlie and breaking the rules, Charlie's favorite game. "That's me! I'm going to go find her."

"And I'm going with him," Charlie jerked her thumb at Shawn, who beamed at her until she slid that thumb across her throat at him, just to get him to wipe the dumb look off his face.

"I'm staying right here," Gus declared with a scowl, standing his ground.

"Great idea," Shawn grinned at his friend. "Wait ten seconds and make an entrance while Charlie and I go ahead." He held out his smoothie to Gus as he said, "Drink some."

Charlie snatched the smoothie right out of Shawn's hand, taking a sip of it before making a gagging face, forgetting that it had been a pineapple smoothie; she hated pineapple.

"Disgusting," she choked out, pushing the foam cup into Gus' hands (pick-pocketing Gus' keys out of his pocket at the same time), leaving with Shawn to the bullpen, leaving Gus behind to drink the smoothie.

"Hey, Lassie. Juliet," Shawn greeted as he and Charlie approached the two detectives, along with the woman, their witness, of sorts. Charlie waggled her fingers at Lassiter, whose face immediately turned bright red. She blew him a kiss, snickering under her breath at the color of his face and the vein throbbing in his forehead before turning to Juliet.

"Hey, Juliet. Still up for shopping this Saturday?" she asked the blonde detective.

"Of course!" Juliet exclaimed, excited to get to know Shawn and Gus' friend better.

"I don't believe we've met," Shawn said, turning to the other blonde woman that the two detectives had been conversing with. "Or did we meet?" he asked, holding his fingers to his temples in his ridiculous manner. "In a bank? No, that's not it. Why am I getting 'bank?' Piggy bank? Sperm bank? Doesn't matter. I'm Shawn Spencer. I am the official head psychic here at the department."

"You don't have a title," Lassiter growled at Shawn, what seemed like permanent wrinkles etched on his forehead. "And there is serious doubt as to whether you're really even psychic."

"He really is a psychic," Charlie scowled at Lassiter, crossing her arms over her chest, making her breasts more prominent. Lassiter's eyes drifted down to her cleavage before shaking his head and glared at the wall behind her head.

"I solved the McCallum disappearance. And the Summerland murder," Shawn bragged, digging around in his pockets. "Oh, and I found your keys." He threw the keys to Lassiter, who fumbled them and Charlie snickered at him. "And your badge." Once again, he fumbled and Charlie full-out laughed at his butterfingers.

"Out," Lassiter fumed, his face beet-red, pointing towards the exit.

"Shawn, Charlie, where are my keys?" Gus asked, walking into the conference room, patting down his pockets for his missing keys that were currently in Charlie's satchel.

"What?" Lassiter asked, confused, before it dawned on him that it was Shawn and Charlie's doing and yelled, "No. Out."

"If you don't mind, we're a little busy," Juliet said, looking at Charlie apologetically; she hated letting down a friend, but her detective work took precedence. "We have a…"

"Excuse us, Raylene," Shawn said, taking Charlie's arm as they turned to leave.

"Do we know each other?" Raylene asked, confused as to how Shawn knew her name.

"No, we don't," Shawn said, dropping Charlie's arm to address Raylene. Charlie, who had been mid-step, stumbled and would have fallen if Lassiter didn't reach out last minutes and steady her by putting his hands on her waist. She raised an eyebrow up at him and he dropped his hands off of her as if she were on fire. "I'm sorry. Psychic, remember? Sometimes I can't turn it off."

"Do you do readings?" Raylene asked a bit excitedly, standing from her chair, while Lassiter rolled his eyes at Shawn (Charlie did the same, only discreetly).

"We do it all," Shawn informed her, while Charlie handed the woman one of their cards. Shawn thought the idea of cards was stupid and they didn't need any printed; Gus disagreed, along with Charlie, so they went and had a bunch made. Charlie gave Shawn a smug look as he said, "Full service, as printed on the card that my associate just gave you."

"I'm a bit of an enthusiast," Raylene admitted. "I used to have a regular girl read for me."

Gus, having not paid any attention to anything that had been said on account of him searching for his keys, pulled Shawn back and asked, "Really?" while taking a business card from his pocket and held it out to Raylene. "Uh, here's a card. We're at the beachfront location. I could put my cell number on the back if you have any questions. Anytime, really," he said in his overly-smooth, what he thought was sexy, voice.

"Uh, thank you," Raylene said, a bit uncomfortable. Despite having Charlie just handing her a card, Raylene took the one Gus offered her, much too polite to say otherwise. "You're so kind." She read the card and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "This is as pharmaceutical company."

"Like I said, we do it all," Shawn offered to her. "Charlie here works at a garage, so if you ever need your car fixed, she's your gal."

"Um, thanks," Raylene said, giving Charlie a smile, then turned back to Shawn. "Well, I always say, 'a man with many hats…'"

"'Doesn't like his haircut'?" Gus supplied, finishing the quote for her.

"Exactly," Raylene said with a smile. "I thought I was the only one who read that book."

"That's my favorite," Gus flirted with the woman and Charlie rolled her eyes, ready to smack Gus upside the head.

"Mine, too," Raylene said with a polite smile to Gus.

"Really?" Gus asked smoothly. Lassiter and Charlie exchanged an exasperated look before realizing what they were doing (Charlie scowled to herself) and Lassiter cleared his throat, breaking Gus and Raylene up from their little conversation, both looking embarrassed.

"And…scene," Shawn quipped and Charlie smacked him in the back of the head as the trio walked out of the police station.

Gus disappeared along the line (after Charlie threw his keys back to him by hitting him square between the shoulder blades) as Shawn and Charlie headed back to Psych to research the bank robbery for Shawn to use as 'psychic material.' Charlie sat at her secretarial desk (Fuck, she hated being the secretary) and booted up her laptop (the one she had taken from the trash at the McCallulms' place), getting to work on the research since Shawn wasn't exactly tech-savvy.

The pair was busy sorting, printing, and reading through newspaper articles about the bank robbery when Gus finally showed his face in the office. Charlie barely looked up from the article she was skimming through, but scowled when Gus stopped behind her to peer over her shoulder to see what she was reading.

"Dude, what took you so long?" Shawn asked. "This is good stuff. You've got to see what happened to this car. I mean, it was really…" He drifted off to look at Gus, who had stopped looking over Charlie's shoulder to look off in the distance. "What?"

Charlie broke off of her reading to glance at Gus, who was walking forward to the very large chunk that had been broken out of the wall, exposing the drywall. "What happened here?" Gus breathed out in shock, his eyes wide.

"Oh, that?" Shawn said in disconcert. "I had a drywaller come in and take out a wall."

"A wall?" Gus growled out. "This is a rental. What do you think our landlord is going to say?"

"I told him it was a bad idea," Charlie commented, but she was ignored, so she turned back to the article. She had a box of thumbtacks out, ready to pin the articles to the cork board she had found at the local thrift store, as well as the miscellaneous information that Shawn had glimpsed off of the police file.

"Gee, I don't know," Shawn said sarcastically. "'Thank you?' Gus, this place was way too cramped."

"My name is on that lease," Gus argued, his voice rising in pitch as he got more upset.

"My name is on the lease, too," Charlie butt in, raising an eyebrow at Gus. "You don't see me complaining."

"You don't pay the lease," Gus said to her, but then let out an _eeep_ and snapped his mouth shut at the 'I will kill you' look Charlie gave him.

"Don't worry," Shawn tried to sooth. "I'll make sure you get a thank-you not, too."

Gus shook off Charlie's look of death and growled at Shawn, "You're taking my name off the lease, and the door, and these Frisbees." He picked up a neon pink Frisbee out of a cardboard box on Shawn's desk bearing their Psych logo before throwing it down in disgust.

"Gus, don't be ridiculous," Shawn said. "Look, I'm almost positive this isn't a load-bearing wall, but if you're really concerned, why don't you go jump up and down in the attic and make sure."

"What is she doing here?" Gus asked, spotting Raylene in the waiting room in front of Charlie's desk.

"Oh, I forgot she was here," Charlie commented, looking up from pinning up the articles in surprise, genuinely forgetting the woman had been there.

"Ah," Shawn said, and Charlie snickered at the fact that Shawn also seemed to forget about Raylene. "She's our first real client."

"Actual client?" Gus asked in surprise. "Hired for the job?"

"Actual client," Shawn said with a grin.

"Unless you're taken off the lease," Charlie snarked at Gus, who ignored her to look at Raylene (the woman sent Gus a large smile, causing Gus to light up brightly).

"Go on, man," Shawn encouraged him with a grin. Instead of Gus leaving the office with Raylene, like Charlie hoped he would (he was annoying the shit out of her with his constant whining and complaining that afternoon), Raylene joined them in their office space. Charlie rolled her eyes and plopped down in one of the very comfortable, yet stylish, chairs that she had ordered when they first renovated Psych. Shawn just sat at his desk, propping up his feet on said desk, until Charlie glared at him and he removed them as quickly as he could.

Charlie threw a hand over her mouth to cover up a snicker as Gus just stood next to Shawn's desk, looking extremely awkward and nervous that there was an actual woman, besides Charlie, in the office that was seemingly interested in him.

"I have to admit, when I met you at the police station, I was intrigued, so I checked your recent track record," Raylene said with a slight blush. "It's amazing, really."

"Well, it's…it's a team effort," Gus stuttered, smiling shyly at Raylene.

"Not really," Shawn butted in with a smug look. "I do most of the work."

"Not to mention the biggest fucking head," Charlie seethed, giving Shawn a pointed look to back the fuck off.

"What can we help you with, ma'am?" Gus asked in a suddenly smooth voice, sitting on the edge of Shawn's voice. Charlie let out a groan at his faux-sexy voice and leaned her head back on the chair, totally exasperated and ready to head home for a drink and a bath.

"I need you to get in contact with someone," Raylene said as Charlie sighed and lifted her head up, watching the interaction.

"Well, tracking people down is out specialty," Shawn boasted, puffing out his chest until he saw the incredulous looks both Gus and Charlie were giving him. "What? Oh, it's not now?"

"This one might be a little tricky," Raylene admitted and Charlie sat up, suddenly interested; she was intrigued by finding a missing person, especially when the police didn't seem to be able to help Raylene.

"How tricky?" Gus asked. "Is the person out of the state? Country?"

"He's dead," Raylene corrected him and Charlie furrowed her eyebrows before rolling her eyes.

"Ah, and I assume that's why you need a psychic," Shawn said with a grin and Raylene nodded.

"Hold on," Gus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dead? Like dead—dead? Currently being eaten by worms?"

"You paint such a pretty picture, Gus," Charlie sneered at him, before snorting suddenly when Gus gave her a death look; he wasn't very intimidating.

"He's actually entombed in a mausoleum," Raylene said, slightly put-off by Gus' comment.

"Gus, he's ascended to the next dimension," Shawn said in his best 'I'm a psychic so I know what I'm talking about' voice and then he turned to Raylene. "It's fine."

"No, Shawn, I think we might be at a bit of an impasse," Gus said, looking like he might be sick.

"What exactly do you need to know?" Shawn asked Raylene, ignoring Gus while Charlie hissed at Gus to stop being such a crybaby. Gus turned and walked away, his back to Shawn and Raylene, but Charlie could see that he looked like he was trying to pull himself together, even if it was just for the sake of money for their company.

"My man was not a perfect man," Raylene started, her voice a bit wobbly as she struggled to get her words out, while Charlie and Shawn listened intently to what she had to say. "He got himself in a bit of trouble. Okay, I'll be honest, it was a lot of trouble. He got involved in a bank robbery. He was one of three, but the only one who didn't go to prison. Unfortunately, the reason he didn't get caught was that he drove his car down an embankment…"

"Wait," Shawn broke in, sitting up in his seat, going into psychic mode. "I see rain. No roads," Shawn said, discreetly making a slight movement with his hand to Charlie, indicating something, and she sighed, leaning forward to close the laptop in front of her on the coffee table; it had the newspaper article and details of said crash that Shawn was 'psychically' seeing. "There was a fiery crash, wasn't there?"

"Yes," Raylene breathed out, sounding as if she were amazed by Shawn and his gifts; Charlie just rolled her eyes, as per usual.

"What would you like me to ask, Raylene?" Shawn asked, arching an eyebrow dramatically.

"Well, this is hard to say, but he was the one designated to bury the money," Raylene admitted, wringing her hands. "They were to all meet later and divide the cash, only his partners were caught first."

"So why wait until now?" Gus asked, finally turning around to join the conversation.

"His partners think that I know where he hid the money," Raylene said, starting to cry silently. Shawn, Gus, and Charlie all looked at each other, unsure of what to do when a woman was crying (Charlie wasn't one to do it very often). "If I don't give it to them, they're going to kill me."

"Shawn, Charlie, can I speak to you two outside, please?" Gus hissed out and even Charlie looked shocked by his tone of voice.

"I…guess," Shawn said, eyes wide, as Charlie stood from her very comfy chair only to stand in Gus' face and very coolly said, "No," and moved to the small kitchen area of the office to make Raylene some coffee as the boys left the office to speak privately.

"How d'you take your coffee?" she asked the other woman, making sure two mugs were clean before she poured the hot beverage in them.

"Oh, um, two sugars, please," Raylene said timidly, slightly unsure how to respond to this seemingly hardened woman in front of her. Charlie noticed this and sighed quietly, before walking over to Raylene, handing her the mug, a softer look on her face. "Sorry if I kinda overwhelm you. I have to act tough to keep those two morons in line. They usually get into all kinds of trouble and it's up to me to save their asses."

"It's fine," Raylene said with a small smile. "I understand completely; it was usually the same way with my husband. He meant well, trouble just always seemed to follow him around."

"Yeah, truth is, I don't really have any female friends, so I have a hard time connecting with my own sex," Charlie admitted to the woman, wondering her herself why she was doing so. She wasn't usually this open with anybody, let alone a woman she had just met that day.

"Well, you can give me a call if you find yourself in need of some female company," Raylene offered, digging a card out of her purse to hand Charlie.

"Thanks," Charlie said with a tight smile, slightly uncomfortable by the chick-flick moment, but grateful none-the-less. She let out a sigh of relief as Shawn and Gus walked back in the office and sipped at her coffee that was flavored with Caramel Macchiato coffee creamer.

"Mrs. Wilcroft," Gus started.

"Raylene," the woman insisted with a smile.

"Raylene," Gus corrected himself before continuing. "Your problem is…outside of our reach."

Charlie sighed once again and rolled her eyes at the sight of Shawn standing behind Gus, shaking his head and mouthing to Raylene, _'It's not.'_

"You are in real danger," Gus went on as Shawn assured Raylene she wasn't in trouble with his hands in the air like a crazy person; or at least, that was Charlie's opinion. "I'd like to recommend police protection." _'We'll take the case!'_ "I'm please to be of service," Gus said, shaking Raylene's hand with a smooth smile on his face.

"Thank you," Raylene said sincerely, mostly looking at Shawn, who winked at her while Gus replied, "Thank you," in what he considered his sexy voice and Charlie felt a chill (and not a good kind) go down her spine and scowled at her dark-skinned friend as Raylene left with Shawn symbolizing with his hand that he'd call her.

Charlie flopped down in one of the armchairs with a sigh of relief as the pushover (Gus) left the office (having a real job to attend to; something Charlie was dreading having to do the following day) and Shawn filled Charlie on his plan for that evening: to hold a séance for Raylene's husband. Charlie snorted and then burst out in laughter, real belly-aching laughter that had her doubled over, clutching her stomach as tears rolled down her face.

When her laughter died out and she sat up to wipe the leftover tears and mascara tracks from her face to see Shawn standing in front of her, hands on his hips, an eyebrow raised and a look on his face that said 'I'm completely serious.'

"Oh, my god," she said in shock and awe. "You're serious, aren't you? Holy fuck, you are serious. Shawn, you know you're not a real psychic, right? You can't perform a real séance, so how are you going to fake your way through this cluster-fuck of a mess?"

"With your help and a little magic," Shawn answered wiggling his fingers around in the air at the word 'magic' with a smug look on his face.

"Oh, hell," Charlie groaned, rubbing her face harshly with her hands, her makeup be damned (it was already ruined from her impromptu laughing session). "Alright, fine. I'll fucking help you. Where do we start?"

That's how Charlie found herself making a trip to the nearest grocery store, her pocket filled with all the available money both her and Shawn could pool together (goodbye cell phone for the month; after springing for the taxi that morning, it would be deactivated 'til she could pay the bill), to buy all the available candles they had for the 'séance'. On her way back to the Psych office, she spotted Detectives Lassiter and Juliet running down what she was sure was some lead and couldn't help but admire how broad Lassiter's shoulders looked in his suit jacket before mentally slapping herself.

 _What the fuck?!_ she screamed at herself. Where were these girly thoughts coming from? She didn't do feelings like this or even drool after a guy, especially an asshole like Lassiter. Sure, she like to tease him, but that was the extent of relationships or anything even close to one went, besides her relationship with Shawn and Gus, that was. The closest she ever got to an actual relationship was a few one-night stands with guys she picked up at bars, along with one woman, which was an entirely different experience.

She hurried along back to the Psych office, truly freaked by the thought of being a pussy by letting her girly shit feelings show, before pushing that all to the back of her mind to help Shawn set up for that night. Shawn had called Raylene while she was out and said woman was bringing a large photo of her husband, as well as some friends to take part in the séance.

Charlie lined the office with what seemed like hundreds of candles, but was only about thirty (most of her time went to actually clearing spots for the candles and dusting while she was at it) and having Shawn help her move a table to the center of the room. She managed to locate a sheet that would pass for a tablecloth and placed more candles on the table.

It was evening by the time she was finished and ran home to fix some sandwiches for herself and Shawn, as well as grabbed a blue robe for Shawn to wear (a request from him as she told him where she was going) for the séance. She wrinkled her nose and sighed, knowing she'd have to wash the robe when he was done with it. Oh, and return it to Gus, as it was his bathrobe.

Raylene had arrived with her friends (who were introduced to Charlie, but their names didn't stick with her whatsoever) by the time she returned and she closed the door to the inner office behind her. Shawn had already closed the blinds and Charlie worked on lighting all the candles while she and Shawn ate their sandwiches and then she moved on to setting up the large photo of Raylene's husband next to the table on an easel.

Shawn put on the bathrobe as Raylene, the three other women, and Charlie sat around the table, joining hands (Charlie rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose at having to hold a stranger's hand, but did it to support Shawn, as well as for the money) and started the séance.

Shawn stood behind Charlie, his arms spread wide, the robe seeming to flutter in a non-existant breeze, chanting, as Gus entered the office, having no idea as to what was going on, as Shawn, nor Charlie, had called him and informed him about their plans.

"Eyes of a serpent, ears of a bat…send us a signal from…" Shawn chanted, his eyes closed and head thrown back, as if receiving the 'spirits'.

"Shawn," Gus interrupted in a flat 'no nonsense' tone.

"I hear a voice," Shawn continued to chant and Charlie let out a discreet sigh, knowing that with Gus, shit was about to hit the fan.

"Can I see you and Charlie outside, please?" Gus seethed through clenched teeth.

"It wants to me and Charlie to come outside," Shawn chanted out and Charlie mentally corrected his grammar in her mind, removing her hands from two of the women that Raylene brought with her and stood.

"Now?" Gus growled out.

"I should go," Shawn chanted out with a sigh, dropping his arms to his sides and turned off the fan that had discreetly been blowing on him, which Charlie had hidden underneath Shawn's desk. Charlie opened the inner office door and held it open, waiting for Shawn and Gus to move their asses. She let out a growl as the duo stopped just before the door for Gus to ask, "Is that my bathrobe?"

"Yes, it is, now move it!" Charlie ordered them with a scowl as Shawn pushed Gus into the outer office, Charlie following and shutting the door behind her.

"What are you two doing?" Gus seethed.

"What does it look like we're doing? We're having a séance," Shawn said, like it was blindly obvious.

"You guys can't have a séance," Gus said, shock written all over his face.

"Gus, there are no rules against having a séance," Shawn said in his soothing 'I-know-what's-best' tone. "Anyone can have one. It's like a garage sale or plastic surgery."

"Okay, first of all, technically, you need to have a permit to have a garage sale," Gus said condescendingly, causing Charlie to send a death glare at him. "Secondly, you cannot speak to the dead."

"Shut it, Gus," Charlie scowled at her friend. "We've got that all arranged already."

"Charlie's right," Shawn said before dramatically saying, "Oh, Gus, you don't understand at all, do you? I don't need to make contact with the dead. No, I need to speak with all the people in the room. They're witnesses. We can piece together the rest based on the information they give us. We're already onto something that Charlie found out. Check this out. The dead guy was on the lam for three days with the cash. He had help."

"From whom?" Gus asked, genuinely interested in what Shawn was saying, making Charlie just itch to say 'I told you so' to Gus.

"I'm almost there," Shawn said patiently, as if speaking to a small child. Charlie snorted before opening the office door again, surprisingly letting her friends go first, shutting it behind her to keep up the illusion of the séance. Charlie resumed her seat at the table, Shawn making himself comfy next to her, with Gus at the other end of the table, by Raylene. Charlie sighed before taking one of the woman's hands (she seriously couldn't remember their names!) and one of Shawn's.

"Raylene?" Shawn asked, falling into his 'psychic vibes'.

"Yes, Shawn?" Raylene asked, getting back into the séance.

"I'm sensing the last time he called, before the accident," Shawn said, drawing Raylene in, just as he and Charlie had planned.

"Ellen was the only one who talked to him," Raylene said, indicating to the woman that was sitting to Charlie's left, holding her hand. Ellen opened her eyes, trying to tug her hand from Charlie's, but Charlie kept a death grip of her hand, making sure she didn't let go (Charlie was certain she was crushing a finger or two).

"Ellen," Shawn said, looking at the woman. "Yes, I feel that deeply. You didn't tell the police that, did you?"

"No, I was afraid," Ellen said. "He's my brother. I didn't want to turn him in."

"No, of course not," Shawn said soothingly. "Where did he call from?"

"A pay phone outside a store," Ellen answered.

"Yes, it was a store," Shawn 'divined', and Charlie was sure that if he had a free hand, he would have them pressed to his temples, like he usually did. "I feel it. Which store?"

"Uh, I think it was a…Thrifty Mart," Ellen said, still looking a bit unsure at sharing her information. "Up north. He'd been driving. I…I've always imagined it was the one near…Prismo?"

"Prismo!" Shawn exclaimed. "Yes. But the spirits are confused. They need more specific directions. Nearest….cross street?"

"Uh, just past the park we used to hike with Roger," Ellen shared.

"Who's Roger?" Shawn asked in curiosity and Charlie elbowed him under the table, as knowing who Roger was had nothing to do with what they needed to know; she smirked when Shawn let out a grunt.

"He's our cousin," Ellen said hesitantly.

"Really?" Shawn asked, blocking another rib splitter from Charlie. "But wait! There's more. The spirits are asking me….what is Roger's address?"

Charlie grit her teeth, yelling at herself in her head (though she didn't regret elbowing Shawn; he usually deserved it for something) at not making the connection; Roger must be harboring Raylene's husband, whom Charlie and Shawn theorized wasn't really dead.

"I really haven't seen Roger in years," Ellen said uncomfortably.

"Come on, Ellen!" Shawn shouted, earning him another elbow from Charlie. "Work with me! Think harder."

"Okay, sorry," Ellen said timidly.

"Let the poor girl think," Charlie hissed at Shawn between her teeth.

"How about a phone number?" Shawn asked Ellen, completely ignoring Charlie, earning himself a death glare from his friend, along with a promise of bodily harm.

"Okay," Gus said in frustration, standing up, making Shawn gasp dramatically.

"Gus, what have you done?" Shawn breathed out. "You've broken the chain of spiritual trust."

"I didn't break anything," Gus defended himself, wrinkling his nose.

"Don't ruin it for everyone, Gus," Ellen said and Charlie discreetly sneered at her.

"I'm not ruining anything," Gus growled out. "Listen, Raylene, I have to apologize to you. You seem like a very decent person, but what you need is protection, not this." Charlie played along with Shawn, patting his back sympathetically as he buried his head in his hands. "A body guard, a policeman," Gus continued. "I can assure you, there is no spirit in here."

"What?" Shawn asked nervously as Raylene looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Gus!" Charlie scolded, covering Shawn's ears, like she would a small child if there was language in the room.

"And let me make you a guarantee," Gus continued, ignoring both of his friends. "There is absolutely no way there'll be any sort of contact with zombies—"

At that moment, something was thrown through the window, completely shattering it all over the floor. As the women in the room started screaming and tires squealing away from the office, Charlie had tackled Shawn to the floor and was covering his body with hers, protecting him from any further danger that might occur.

"I think you crushed my pelvis, Charlie," Shawn grunted and Charlie got off of him and held out a hand to pull him off the floor.

"You're welcome for saving your life," Charlie grumbled out at Shawn, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You okay?" Raylene asked one of the women (Denise? Delilah? Charlie still wasn't sure about the name) and the woman nodded that she was fine.

Charlie flipped her head upside down, shaking out her hair, letting stray bits of glass fall to the floor with little _tinkling_ sounds.

"I think that's all for us tonight, ladies," Shawn said shakily. After Raylene and her friends huddled in the corner of the room, too scared to leave, Charlie shut the blinds and pulled her Glock out of her satchel, keeping an eye out the window in case whoever had broken their window decided to come back. Gus walked over and peered through the blinds, giving Charlie and her gun a side glance, as Shawn snuck over and joined them.

"Did you do that?" Gus whispered to Shawn and Charlie, thinking it was just one of their special effects for the séance.

"Why would I ruin our totally cool window?" Shawn whispered in return.

"And why would I be keeping an eye out the window with my gun sitting in my lap?" Charlie hissed out sarcastically.

"For effect, to make me think you contacted an evil ghost," Gus whispered, a scowl on his face.

"Gus, please," Shawn whispered with a dramatic flair, as usual. "Why didn't you float that idea by me sooner? That's genius." Shawn paused for a moment, looking out the window again. Charlie narrowed her eyes, keeping a sharp eye out for any suspicious-looking cars up and down the street. "Somebody obviously wants us off this case."

"I think it's those convicts," Gus theorized in a whisper. "But whoever it is, we'll never find them. I just saw them run off."

"You sure about that?" Shawn asked, still whispering.

"Yeah," Gus answered.

In a normal tone, Shawn said, "Ladies, stay here. We're going after them…or it." In a whisper, he told Gus and Charlie, "Let's get some tacos."

"Okay," Gus agreed.

"Is tacos code for let's go to the police?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow, hinting to the boys.

"Psh, no," Shawn scoffed before seeing the look on Charlie's face. "Uh, what I meant to say is, yes. Yes we will go to the police."

"Wise choice," Charlie smirked.

"And then tacos after?" Shawn asked, a puppy dog look on his face.

"Only if you pay," Charlie snorted.

"Gus can pay," Shawn said with a grin, while Charlie chuckled at the offended look on Gus' face.

"Agreed," Charlie said with a bob of her head.

Entering the police station, the trio found Juliet rather quickly and filled her in on what had happened.

"And then the window just shattered," Shawn finished up.

"And you think ghosts did it?" Juliet asked skeptically, clearly not believing in the idea of ghosts."

"Definitely not ghosts," Charlie said as they went into the bullpen. "I heard tires squealing away from our office and I found this on the floor of the office." She pulled a large brick out of her satchel with a note that read 'BACK OFF OR ELSE', which Charlie thought was just too cliché.

"Yeah, no ghosts," Shawn said. "Though there may have been some women present, not including Charlie, of course, who thought ghosts were responsible."

"I blame it on the two convicts from the Homby Back robbery," Gus said, sniffing.

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand why that means you need to see the entire case file," Juliet said in confusion, putting the file on her desk and Charlie offered her a tight smile.

"Oh, no, Juliet, we don't need to see the whole thing," Shawn said, waving his hands in the air. "No, just the cover page, one or two others here or there. Definitely the witness list."

"Well, you got to see that," Gus said, nodding in agreement.

"Well, us non-psychics need to see it," Charlie grumbled under her breath.

"And the Chief's okay with this?" Juliet asked skeptically, totally not believing Shawn.

"Oh, yeah!" Shawn said, a little too quickly.

"Yeah!" Gus agreed, also too quickly and Charlie, if she could, would have smack her palm to her face at the antics of the two morons she called her friends.

"I don't think so," Juliet decided.

"No?" Shawn asked, trying his best puppy dog face on the detective.

"No," Juliet said firmly, turning back to her work, lifting a large file box onto her desk. Shawn, Gus, and Charlie went back to the hallway, Gus complaining about Juliet.

"I liked the other girl better," he declared and Charlie lifted an eyebrow at him, deciding it best not to say anything.

"Not me," Shawn said and Charlie secretly agreed with Shawn, though she'd never say so out loud, since she wasn't one for female friends. "Hey, since we're here, we should do some digging."

"Good idea," Gus said sarcastically. "Why don't you dig me getting the hell out of here and going to get some sleep."

"I set you up for that," Shawn called after Gus as he walked away towards the exit. "Lobbed it right over the plate."

"Ya know, he's got a point," Charlie said, letting out a yawn. "I actually have to work tomorrow and it's getting pretty late."

"Aw, come on," Shawn whined. "Just another hour and then you can go home. Plwease?"

"Really, Spencer? The baby voice?" Charlie scoffed at her friend. "Fine, but you owe me some coffee."

Charlie led Shawn over towards where the coffee was, going right past the desk, where Officer Allen was on duty. Charlie scowled as Shawn faked a cough as they walked by, knowing that she wasn't getting her coffee anytime soon.

"Mr. Spencer! Miss. Matthews!" Officer Allen greeted them jovially and Charlie had to bite back a loud groan, feeling a headache coming on.

"Oh!" Shawn fake exclaimed, moving back to the desk. "Hey, you. What a surprise. You look different."

"Yes, I took your advice," Officer Allen said happily and Charlie felt like she could just throw up at all the cheerfulness exuberating from this woman. "Three weeks without a cigarette."

"Well, it has certainly enhanced your aura," Shawn commented, pouring on the flattery. "And remember, it wasn't my advice, it was your grandma's spirit."

"Have you spoken to her again?" Officer Allen asked, her eyes lit up with excitement.

"She's here," Shawn said, inhaling sharply, putting his hand up to the side of his head.

"Now?" Officer Allen asked, looking around with her eyes wide.

"Yes," Shawn said and Charlie sighed in impatience; she just wanted her fucking coffee!

"Where? In this hallway?" Officer Allen asked, speaking quickly, her eyes darting around, as if she would catch a glimpse of her deceased grandmother.

"No," Shawn answered, and Charlie knew that this was his plan all along. "In the records room."

"I thought I felt something eerie in there," Allen said, nodding.

"Me, too," Shawn said with a small smile on his face. "Unfortunately, Charlie and I are not allowed down there."

"Please," Officer Allen said with a scoff, holding up a large key ring with an equally large number of keys attached to it. Shawn let out a over dramatic gasp of feigned surprise and Charlie just sighed, knowing that coffee was a very distant dream by this point. She followed Officer Allen and Shawn to the very dark records room, wincing as the lights were suddenly turned on, brightening up the room.

"No, no, no," Shawn said, also wincing at the harsh brightness. "Not too much light. You don't want to scare her away." Charlie tapped Shawn on the arm, indicating to him that she'd go after the file if he kept Officer Allen occupied and distracted. Allen dimmed the lights and Charlie faded behind a shelf, heading towards the W's. "Yes," Shawn continued, keeping Allen preoccupied as Charlie, always having the sticky fingers when they were kids, prepared to snatch the file. "Oh, yes. Yes, I can feel her, all right. She's…she's over by the A's."

"Why?" Allen question and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as Shawn had enough sense to lead Officer Allen away from where she was looking. Finding the W's, she used the flashlight on her phone (thank fuck that worked even when her phone was shut off), dimming it slightly, as to not alert Allen.

"I'm nervous," she heard Allen declare from the other side of the record room and Shawn replied, "Don't be. I want you to relax. Breathe. Close your eyes."

Charlie turned her flashlight on bright, grabbing the correct file box and quietly set it on the floor, kneeling down beside it, flicking through the files 'til she found the correct one, pulling it out. She opened it, reading the witness list and the first couple pages of the file, snapping pictures of them with her phone.

"I hear something," she heard Allen say as the paper crinkled slightly when she was sticking it back in the file and she winced, shoving the folder back into the box, slipping the box back on the shelf.

"Yes, me, too," Shawn said in agreement, peering through the shelving to see if Charlie was nearly done; she gave him a thumbs up, turning off her flashlight, slinking through the aisles to stand by Shawn and Officer Allen.

"Paper!" Officer Allen said suddenly.

"No, no, it's not paper," Shawn said as Charlie handed him her phone, showing him the pictures she took (like that's not illegal, or anything { _note the sarcasm_ , she thought to herself}).

"Yes, it's clearly paper," Allen argued.

"You have to concentrate," Shawn said, a bit distracted from looking at the pictures and quickly wrote something on his hand to remember better. "Breathe deeply."

Shawn backed out of Charlie's gallery and handed the phone back to Charlie, acting as if nothing had happened.

"No," Allen said, shaking her head. "Uh-uh. I'm definitely not feeling anything anymore."

Charlie elbowed Shawn quickly, mimicking his psychic hand gesture and Shawn put his hand to the side of his head just as Officer Allen opened her eyes.

"I think we've lost her," Shawn said apologetically to Allen, a sad look on his face as the trio went back out into the hallway and Charlie sneezed, the dust aggravating her sinuses. "I'm so sorry I couldn't reach her," Shawn apologized to Allen again.

"It's okay," Officer Allen said, taking Shawn's hands in hers. "I know how temperamental the spirit world can-" She broke off suddenly as she caught sight of the writing on Shawn's hand and exclaimed, "Your hand!"

Shawn let out an over-exaggerated gasp of astonishment as Officer Allen declared, "It was the spirits."

"Yes," Shawn nodded, trying to slip his hand away from Allen so she couldn't read what was written on it; him and Charlie would be screwed if she figured out what was on his hand.

"It's a message from beyond," Allen said. "What does it say?"

"I think I should keep it to myself," Shawn said, holding his hand in front of his eyes. "It's a private message."

Charlie was exhausted when she left the station that night, leaving Shawn standing on the steps to walk the three miles home since she didn't have the money for a cab. One hand clutched the strap of her satchel, adjusting it for whatever comfort she could, and started heading for home.

Lassiter's POV

He had just finished his stakeout with O'Hara, keeping an eye on the released bank robbers (what he wouldn't give to just shoot them all!) and was looking forward to heading home to clean his service weapon (and the other various weapons he had hidden around his house) and watch _Heartbreak Ridge_ for what seemed like the thousandth time (it was one of his favorite movies; he wanted nothing more than to be like Clint Eastwood) when he saw her.

Actually, the first thing he saw was a very nice-looking ass (not that he'd ever mention to anyone) before he realized who the ass belonged to and he nearly chocked on his own spit as he saw Charlotte (he refused to call a woman by a man's name) and scowled, trying to decided whether to give her a ride or not. He knew where she lived; he did background checks on anyone that was going to be in any part of his life, and knew that she was still two and a half miles from home.

He grumbled to himself as he pulled over to the side of the road, right beside Charlotte. He could see her stumble in her stride and curiously look at his car, her eyebrows furrowed and her right hand in her bag she always carried with her.

Back to Charlie's POV…

 _What the fuck?_ she thought to herself, grabbing a hold of her Glock that was in her satchel, knowing it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. She thought she recognized the car, but wasn't going to take any chances, not about to let any bastards kidnap her. She took slow steps to the passenger side of the car, slowing bending down, keeping her narrowed eyes on the window, wanting to get a good look at the driver for the police, if it was a kidnapping. Of course, with the case they were working on, it was very possible that this was a kidnapping, or a warning to stay away.

She gave a quick sigh of relief and then felt her anger rising in her stomach as she saw Lassiter sitting behind the wheel, looking rather hot with his aviators on (not that she'd ever admit it to anyone).

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at the Head Detective.

"Isn't that obvious?" Lassiter scowled at her. "Unless you'd rather walk, that is. I do have better things I could be doing with my time."

"No!" Charlie exclaimed quickly before saying, "Uh, no, no, thanks. Um, yeah, thanks."

Not used to people doing things like that for her, she took her hand off of her gun and awkwardly climbed the in the passenger seat of Lassiter's Crown Victoria, wringing her hands together on her lap.

"Don't you have a bicycle or something you usually ride around everywhere?" Lassiter asked and Charlie raised an eyebrow, totally surprised that he'd paid such close attention to anything that concerned her. "What?" he scowled at her, as if reading her mind. "I _am_ the Head Detective."

"I know that, Mr. Head Detective," Charlie growled at him, feigning annoyance to cover up her surprise, not wanting to appear vulnerable whatsoever. She took a deep breath to calm her unusually shaky nerves and explained, "I left my bike at home in favor of riding with Shawn this morning, thus leading me to walk home."

Falling silent the rest of the way to her apartment, Charlie muttered a quick, "thanks", fleeing from his squad car as quickly as she could, not looking behind her.

-{}-

The next morning, Charlie grumbled to herself as she went about making her morning coffee, her dreams plagued by Lassiter, and her gut churning at his uncomfortably generous act of driving her home. She was surprised to find that Shawn hadn't been in her face when she had woken up that morning, but glad nonetheless, as she had a full day of work to look forward to (heavy on the sarcasm, she thought, wrinkling her nose is distaste). She was loathe to admit it, but she'd much rather be out with Shawn and Gus, solving the case.

Before she left her apartment to head to the library, she decided to spend her next free day to bake something for Lassiter as a sort of thank you, not liking to be in anyone's debt for any reason.

Despite having the spare time to catch up on some reading (this time a DIY home improvement book), Charlie was bored out of her mind, as school was still going on (thank fuck for that; she didn't have the patience to deal with snot-nosed brats today) and now-a-days, most everyone had tablets or phones at home and rarely needed to visit the library.

Had her phone been working that day (Fucking bills!), she would have seen the many texts from Shawn and Gus, the first one being from Gus, which read, _Now I know how you feel waking up to Shawn in the mornings :/_.

From Shawn, _Dude, David Wilcroft iz alive!_

Another one from Shawn, _Gus fnt like little sis._

And finally, from Gus, _If you get the chance, tell Raylene that her husband is alive; she could be in danger._

If she had been able to read the texts, she would have been amused by Gus' text and glad that Shawn had chosen to stalk Gus that morning, instead of her, annoyed by Shawn's way of texting, informing her that Gus had once again fainted, and she would have left work immediately to warn Raylene.

She left the library after lunch, immediately heading for the garage with a tired sigh, missing even more texts as she rode her bike down the streets of Santa Barbara.

 _Lassiesuchasshole!_ she missed from Shawn and she would have totally agreed.

 **-{That evening}-**

Charlie climbed the stairs of her apartment building, exhausted after the events of the day. She barely registered that her door was unlocked, but she put a hand on her pepper spray, on the off chance that it wasn't Shawn and Gus. She let out a tired sigh when she saw her two friends lounging on her sofa, eating food from her fridge and wondered for the millionth time why the fuck she was friends with them.

"Oh, good, you're home!" Shawn exclaimed, bounding over to her with the exuberance of a puppy or small child. "Now we can get on the case!"

"Yeah, no," Charlie growled at him. "Shower and dinner first, case later. You boys can fix me something to eat while I get cleaned up. And make it something good; I've been working hard all day."

"So, did you get any of my texts?" Shawn asked, heading towards the kitchen, only to be shoved out of the way by Gus, who was, by far, a much better cook.

"Nope," Charlie said, popping the 'p.' "Thanks to you and always forgetting your wallet, I wasn't able to pay my phone bill this month, resulting in my phone being shut off, so no, I didn't get any texts you sent me. Now, if you don't mind, I'm long overdue for a shower."

Rubbing her shoulders after a much needed steaming hot shower, Charlie emerged into the kitchen to find that Gus had made some sort of chicken and rice or risotto for her for dinner. She moaned around every bite, causing Shawn and Gus to look extremely uncomfortable as they recounted their days events to her, as well as where they were planning on heading next.

Dressed in yoga capris, an oversized Guns N' Roses sweater, and her trusty pair of combat boots, she rode with Shawn and Gus to the 2400 Motel, where the bank robbers were staying. Shawn crouched down at the convicts' door, trying to get it unlocked, while Charlie leaned against the wall next to the door, making comments here and there on everything Shawn was doing wrong.

"This is breaking and entering," Gus hissed out, ever the worry wart.

"No, no, no," Shawn argued, still trying to work the lock. "Only if we break something. And then enter something. Entering is just 'entering'."

"Not according to the cops and your pal Lassiter," Charlie smirked, brushing the hair out of her face. She pulled her set of lock picks out of her satchel and pulled Shawn to the side to kneel down and work on the lock herself.

"I'm not breaking the law, guys," Gus insisted, looking around to make sure there weren't any witnesses or police officers.

"Look, you want to save you little widow? We've got to find some evidence to put these guys away," Shawn said, indicating to the lock that Charlie almost had finished; she was really rusty with this and needed to practice more often.

"I'm standing firm on this," Gus insisted.

"Well, can you stand firm on it a little more to the left?" Charlie growled out. "You're blocking my light."

A few seconds later, Charlie had the lock picked and the door flung open, just as Shawn suggested that maybe the window would be more preferable for Gus. She busied herself with digging though her satchel for a flashlight to use as Gus tried to get her and Shawn's attention.

"Um, Charlie?" Gus said, fear in his voice, as Shawn tapped her on the shoulder.

"What?" she snapped out before looking up to see the bank robbers aiming a gun at the three of them. "Oh," she sighed out, her fingers finding her Glock.

"Whoa!" Shawn exclaimed. "You guys parked around back, huh? Look, it's okay! We're window inspectors!"

"Idiot," Charlie hissed out as one of the guys barked out, "Let me see your hands, bitch!"

"Hey, there's no need for name calling," Shawn growled out, showing his rare aggressive side over protecting his friend.

"It's fine," Charlie scowled, taking her hand off her precious firearm to raise her hands in the air, showing the crooks that her hands were empty.

"Let's get them inside," one of the robbers suggested to the other. Looking between the two chicken guys in front of them, the taller of the two (and certainly the smarter of the two) bank robbers decided that the small woman in front of him was the most dangerous, with the stone-cold glare she was giving him and checked her bag, pulling out the semi-automatic handgun, before man-handling the trio into the open door of the motel room.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Charlie screeched, trying to rip her arm away from the sweaty-meat handed fucker that was gripping her arm a little too tight.

"Okay, okay!" Shawn exclaimed. "Was that really necessary? Were we resisting?"

"Man, window inspector?" the dumber (in Charlie's opinion) bank robber grumbled out as he took off his jacket. "In a motel?"

"Okay, I lied," Shawn admitted. "I did. I'm sorry. The truth is I'm a psychic. That's what I do."

"I've been in jail four years," the second guy (Charlie labeled them in her mind Idiot One and Idiot Two) complained.

"You don't have papers?" Shawn asked in mock-surprise. "I thought you guys had TV and yard darts and Mah-Jongg and—" he broke off suddenly as Gus and Charlie simultaneously smacked him before he continued. "Okay. I…I….I, uh…I come bearing a message…from a departed being. David Wilcroft….wants you to know that he lost the money. It's gone forever."

"Why are you telling us this?" Idiot One asked, a very stupidly confused look on his face and Charlie had to refrain herself from snorting so it didn't lead her to a quick death of a bullet in her head in a cheap, disgusting motel room.

"Uh, he…he is concerned that you're going to harm….rins…ranckle…." Shawn stuttered through his 'psychic vision,' finger to his temple.

"Raylene," Gus supplied.

"Raylene," Shawn confirmed and the two Morons immediately broke into laughter and Charlie narrowed her eyes at them.

"Oh, that's funny," Idiot One said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Shawn and Gus uneasily laughing along, giving meaningful side glances at Charlie when she refused to participate.

"That is funny," Shawn said, still laughing, but not knowing why they were laughing in the first place.

"Jesse," Idiot One addressed Idiot Two, sobering instantly, "can you make sure that we are not disturbed?"

Jesse (Although now knowing his name, Charlie still referred to him as Idiot Two in her head, scowling at the two fuckers that had dared to kidnap them) backed away to the motel door, seeming like he was keeping a sharp eye on them before going outside, closing the door behind him, while Shawn started to comment, "You can—", obviously trying to keep the two Morons in one place, but to no avail.

"Can you prove you're a psychic?" Idiot One asked Shawn, narrowing his eyes at the brown-haired 'psychic.'

"Sure," Shawn said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Excuse me," Charlie said, raising her hand in the air, as well as an eyebrow. "Before you get on with your little psychic demonstration or show-and-tell, or whatever the hell this is, can I sit down? Some of us worked all day long and are fucking exhausted."

Idiot One blinked stupidly at her before stirring and said, "Yeah, whatever, bitch, just make it quick."

"Thanks," she scowled out sarcastically, plopping herself on the bed, drawing her legs up to her chest, wishing she still had her mace on her, but she had put in back in the drawer in her kitchen, where it had come from in the first place.

"Sure," Shawn said again, using Charlie's distraction to get into his 'psychic mode.' "Uh…uh, you are…a bank robber. Yes. You….did not like prison. You are wearing the same pants that you were released in, and you have….you've packed on a few pounds since being incarcerated-"

"No, look, man, I'm talking about real proof," Idiot One said, shaking his head. "Like a test. Now, look, if you're right, you live. If you're wrong….Man, you don't want to be wrong."

"Oh, great," Charlie groaned quietly to herself. "A fucking cliché."

"Here's the thing," Shawn said slowly, as not to confuse the oaf. "It's not really a parlor trick—"

"No," Idiot One growled out, his eyes steeling slightly and his hand gripped what Charlie recognized as a Beretta 92 tighter.

"And…and I don't want to cheapen it," Shawn tried again, his hands in the air like a pussy, and Charlie knew the odds of him getting shot were really 3,720 to 1, in favor of Shawn getting blown away.

"Look, prove it now. Let's go," Idiot One said, pushing Shawn onto the couch roughly, causing Charlie to growl menacingly at the man, actually causing a shiver of fear to ripple down the hardened man's back. He ignored the bitch on the bed and turned to Gus, waving the gun at the dark-skinned man. "What's wrong with you? Move!"

"Okay, okay," Gus said cautiously, sitting down in the chair in the room, so the three friends now faced the Moron. He stood facing them, with his back to the pitifully old television set in the room, still aiming the Beretta at Shawn's head, putting his other hand behind his back.

"How many fingers?" Idiot One finally asked.

"H—How many, uh…fingers? What, are you…Are you kidding? I mean…" Shawn trailed off after stuttering out his sentence to pour himself a glass of water from a metal pitcher that was sitting on the crummy little coffee table that was situated in front of the sofa. Charlie wrinkled her nose, wondering just how long that pitcher was sitting there, but then again, she figured that Shawn had some sort of agenda, the way he carefully set the pitcher back down on the table.

"Do I look like I'm joking around?" Idiot One growled up, waving the gun slightly. "How many fingers?"

"We've got to be able to come up with something better," Shawn said, rolling his eyes at the childishness of it all and Charlie prepared herself to pounce on Idiot One, knowing that Shawn was more than likely to get shot very soon.

"All right, man," Idiot One said, taking the safety off the Beretta and Charlie discreetly raised herself on the balls of her feet, ready to leap. "Time's up."

"Four," Shawn said suddenly, sitting back casually on the couch, sipping at his water and Charlie glared at him, sitting back down slowly, so she didn't draw attention to herself.

"All right, how many now?" Idiot One asked, and Charlie blew out a small sigh of relief, unclenching her fist, relaxing it.

"Two," Shawn said, acting like he was impatient with the whole process and Charlie grit her teeth together, truly impatient; she couldn't wait to get home and crash in bed. "Now, can we move on? Because Gus, Charlie, and I have some questions that we—three. For instance, why was it so funny when—three. And is it possible—still three. Now it's technically two and a half fingers. And…the guy with the gun is flipping me the bird."

Charlie sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on as Idiot One accused, "You can see my fingers, can't you?"

"No, no," Shawn said, before hesitating, pretending to think about it, before admitting, "Yes. Yes, I can. It's the reflection of the TV bouncing off the mirror to the—to the water pitcher here."

"Okay, maybe not," Idiot One scowled. "We're going to try this one more time." Charlie literally wanted to scream and point out the stupidity of this man as he moved to stand in front of Gus, blocking Shawn's view to the TV and said, "Now, how many fingers?"

All Shawn had to do was look at Gus, who held up three fingers.

"Dude…you need to stop picking three," Shawn mock-scolded in a condescending tone.

"Respect," Idiot One breathed out in awe, lowering his Beretta and fist bumped Shawn. "Oh, man, that's….yeah."

"A man of many words," Charlie scoffed out stretching her legs out. "So, can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure, sister, that's cool," Idiot One said with a smirk, eyeing her ass in her yoga pants.

"Yeah, no," Charlie scowled at him. "It's just Charlie, or bitch. Whichever one you prefer."

She gave him a death glare as she marched past him to the very dingy bathroom. When she emerged a couple of minutes later, Jesse had rejoined them and handed her a beer on her way back to the bed. After Charlie made herself comfy leaning against the headboard, Shawn held his bottle in the air, and toasted, "To Wilcroft!" before Charlie took a swig, not usually a beer person, but thought, _What the hell?_

"A hell of a wheel man," Idiot One declared, both him and Jesse sitting on either side of Shawn on the couch.

"He was the wheel man?" Shawn asked, curiosity lacing his voice, while Charlie muttered, "Fucking moron," under her voice at his stupidity.

"Yeah," Idiot One said, looking at Shawn with a skeptical look on his face. "You should know that, right?"

"Well, Shawn's visions sometimes are scattered," Gus supplied, helping Shawn. "Incomplete."

"Or sometimes he doesn't see everything," Charlie said with a scoff. "He's not some all powerful psychic."

"Anyways," Shawn said, throwing a scowl at Charlie. "How does a wheel man miss a turn on a mountain road?"

"Oh, I tell you what, he didn't miss that turn," Jesse sneered. "I bet he just drove straight off. You want to know why?"

"Holy fuck," Charlie suddenly realized, finally understanding why there were laughing at the thought of Raylene in trouble had amused them; the bitch had played them.

"Because he was trying to get away from his…wife," Shawn said slowly, looking at Gus and Charlie, his eyes wide.

"Damn, you're good," Idiot One laughed.

"Hey, no, no," Gus said, a horrified look on his face. "That can't be. Why would he be…?"

"We called her 'The Viper'," Idiot One clarified. "Man, she was cold as hell. We had to do whatever she said, man. We had no choice."

"Who?" Gus asked faintly, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"The wife," Idiot One said.

"Raylene?" Gus asked, his eyes wide.

"You know her?" Idiot One asked, looking between the trio of friends.

"Well, she came to us, she wanted to contact David," Gus explained to the two bank robbers.

"Figures," Idiot One scoffed. "That was her only weakness. The occult. Man, she'd stop at nothing to get her hands on that money."

"No, she only wanted that money to protect herself from you two," Gus argued, disbelief written all over his face.

"From—from us?" Idiot One asked, while both men pointed to themselves, their eyes wide.

"Yeah," Gus said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion while both robbers started to laugh.

"Man, the last thing we would ever do is cross her," Idiot One said. "All we wanted to do was get away from her. Especially David." Charlie, not one for showing her emotions usually, sent Gus a sympathetic look. "She ran him around like he was an animal. He did whatever she said. Look, man," he said, looking at Shawn, "I don't know if you guys got caught up in the charm or whatever, but I'll tell you, man, that was her key. She could play anybody. I'm telling you, she's a very dangerous lady."

"Raylene was the mastermind?" Gus asked in total disbelief.

"Whoo!" Shawn exclaimed, hiding his astonishment so he didn't give them away. "I already knew that…because I'm a psychic. Come on, guys. We should go."

Charlie just crossed her arms over her chest as Shawn shook Idiot One's hand, not quite ready to forgive these two for kidnapping them at gunpoint and taking her precious gun from her, even if they were nearly innocent of their crimes.

"Uh…you don't want to go out that way," Jesse said, peering out the window.

"Why?" Shawn asked and Charlie stood from the bed and elbowed him in the ribs. He was supposed to be psychic and already know these things.

"We got company outside," he said and Charlie peered out the other side of the window to see Lassiter and Juliet sitting in their squad car, watching the motel.

"Shit," she hissed out and turned to Shawn. "It's Lassie and Juliet."

"Is there another way out of here?" Shawn asked the two bank robbers.

After recovering her beloved Glock from Jesse (a.k.a. Idiot Two), Charlie climbed out the very small bathroom window after Shawn and Gus (ensuring that they didn't stare at her ass; they might be her friends, but they were still male) before flopping into the backseat of the Blueberry for some much needed rest. She popped in her headphones, letting Simon and Garfunkel's The Sound of Silence flood her ears, blocking out the sound of Gus complaining about having to climb out of a bathroom window.

She dozed off for almost half an hour before jolting awake when Shawn shook her shoulder, hissing at her that they were at the cemetery, where David Wilcroft was supposed to be buried (and obviously not). She hopped out of the backseat, pulling her Glock out of her bag, keeping her thumb over the safety, just in case, and ran into the Mausoleum before Shawn and Gus, determined to keep them safe from any threat there may be. A threat, like Raylene, who turned around when the trio ran in and pointed a gun at them.

Charlie narrowed her eyes and flicked the safety off on her Glock, aiming it at Raylene.

"Drop it, Bitch," Charlie growled out at the woman, making sure to keep Raylene's gun aimed at her and not her two friends.

"I don't think so," Raylene said coldly, not at all like the woman that had tried to befriend Charlie in the Psych office.

"Whoa!" Shawn exclaimed, holding up his hands. "What, today's gun day?"

"Sit," Raylene ordered, pointing to the bench in the room.

Shawn and Gus moved to sit down, but Charlie barked out for them to stay exactly where they were: behind her where it was slightly safer.

"'Just rush in here'," Gus hissed out to Shawn, quoting what Shawn had said while Charlie had been asleep. "Bad idea, Shawn."

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up, guys," Charlie growled out, using one hand to quickly cock her gun, her eyes narrowed.

"Let her hang herself," Shawn said with a shake of his head. He hadn't told her, but he had picked Charlie's pocket while she had been asleep and turned on the recorder.

"Quiet!" Raylene shrieked out.

"Raylene, I'm sensing that this is going to end very, very badly," Shawn said with his 'mystic voice' and put his hand to his head.

"Find me my money," Raylene hissed out, looking down at her husband, whom Charlie hadn't even realized was in the room with them, so intent on watching Raylene's every move. "I know you have it."

"He doesn't have it," Shawn said slowly, trying to sooth Raylene. "I'm the only one who knows where the money is."

Charlie let out a growl of warning when Shawn tried to step past her, taking one hand off of her Glock to shove him back and warned him with a, "Shut the fuck up, Shawn!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Gus butt in, moving forward, also being shoved back by Charlie. Honestly, did these two morons learn anything from her? "He doesn't know where the money is."

"Of course I know where the money is," Shawn said, clenching his jaw, which Charlie saw out of the corner of her eye and knew he had a plan and hoped it wouldn't get them killed.

"Shawn, I don't know what your strategy is, but you don't know where the money is," Gus hissed out and Charlie stomped down on his foot to get him to shut up.

"You have five seconds," Raylene sneered. "One…"

"Really?" Shawn asked in disbelief.

"Two…" Raylene continued with clenched teeth.

"The countdown?" Shawn asked and Charlie signaled for him to zip it, else they end up dead in a Mausoleum, which was ironic.

"Three!" Raylene screamed out and Charlie could see she was running out of patience quickly.

"Shawn!" she barked out and Shawn moved from behind her to jump up on the bench and she hissed through her teeth, motioning for Gus to move with her as she side-stepped over to move in front of Shawn once again, shielding him.

"Okay," Shawn said. "It's in the crypt."

"The money's in the crypt?" Raylene asked, skepticism coloring her voice.

"David here certainly isn't," Shawn said, once again moving around the room.

"Oh, my god, if he survives this, I'm gonna kill him myself," Charlie hissed out to Gus, who was like a frightened little mouse and only squeaked in return.

"Think about it, Raylene," Shawn said, jumping back onto the floor to move back behind Charlie, actually having heard her comment (it scared the shit out of him, not that he'd ever admit it to his friend). "Roger runs the place. It's the perfect hiding spot. They can get in and out whenever they want."

"Pry it open," Raylene hissed out to her husband, not moving the gun from Charlie.

"With what?" David asked, sounding absolutely terrified.

"With the stanchion," Raylene said, after sparing a second to look around, not giving Charlie an opportunity to tackle and disarm her.

"Huh," Shawn commented leaning towards Gus as David walked over to the stanchion. "Apparently, those are called 'stanchions,' Gus. Were you aware of this?"

"Yes, I was," Gus said, which Charlie thought was rather smug, before he asked Shawn, "How did you figure out that money was in the crypt?"

"I'm bluffing," Shawn whispered to Gus and Charlie.

"Oh, fuck," Charlie groaned out. "You fuckin' moron."

"Charlie's right," Gus hissed out, looking outraged. "This is not a good time to bluff."

"I think it's a great time," Shawn said. "She was going to kill us, or at least Charlie, who would die protecting us. And besides, I've always thought a crypt was a great place to stash loot, you know? It's kind of like a vault. You can just get in there whenever you need to."

"She's going to figure out you're lying!" Gus hissed to his best friend while Charlie growled in protest of being thrown under the bus by Shawn, though she really would give her life for theirs, though she'd never tell them that.

"Eventually," Shawn said smoothly, trying to sooth Gus' nerves and relax Charlie, even just slightly. "But come on, it's going to take a while to bust open a crypt."

There was a loud crash, startling Charlie into nearly firing off a round and she turned her full attention to see that Wilcroft had broken open a section of the crypt already and she cursed under her breath.

"You were saying?" she hissed at Shawn, throwing him a glare over her shoulder.

"Wow," Shawn said, turning back to Gus and Charlie, looking startled. "Not as long as I was hoping for."

"Help him get it out," Raylene ordered Shawn and Gus, as if Charlie wasn't even pointing a gun at her face.

"I don't think so," Charlie sneered out, Shawn and Gus staying right where they were, more afraid of Charlie than Raylene.

"Raylene, please…" Gus tried to plead.

"What are you waiting for?" Raylene snarled and Charlie smirked as she heard the door to the Mausoleum open Idiot One and Idiot Two joined them as Shawn smugly said, "That."

"Son of a—" Idiot One broke off at the sight of everyone already in the Mausoleum, as well as the guns that were drawn.

"David," Jesse breathed out in surprise at seeing their partner in crime alive and well.

"I don't believe this," Gus commented.

"What are you going to do, Raylene? Shoot all of us?" Shawn taunted her and Charlie tightened her grip on her gun.

"Only one of you is armed," Raylene growled out. "I can do whatever I want."

"I don't think so, Bitch," Charlie smirked again as the two Idiots slowly raised their hands and she heard Juliet's voice ask, "Really, now?"

Juliet came to a stop right by Charlie, aiming her service weapon at Raylene. Charlie caught sight of Lassiter approaching from the other side, snarling, "Drop it."

Her eyes met Lassiter's for a moment and his eyes flicked to the ground and roamed up her body, sending a shudder up her spine at the sight of the lust in his gaze when he looked at her holding her Glock, before turning his sight back to Raylene.

 _What the fuck was that?!_ she screamed to herself in her mind as Raylene put her gun down on the bench. Her gaze went to Lassiter's ass as he bent to pick up the gun before flicking to the ground, lowering her weapon now that Raylene was disarmed and her friends were no longer in danger.

"Fuck," Charlie muttered her herself as she flipped the safety back on her Glock and replaced her weapon in her satchel.

"You, move away from the stanchion," Lassiter ordered Wilcroft with a growl, sending goosebumps all over Charlie's arms and heat to pool in her gut, sending her wondering what the fuck was wrong with her, that she was suddenly attracted to Lassiter. She shook her head slightly to get rid of her traitorous thoughts as Wilcroft put the stanchion down and sat back on the bench.

"Uh, what took you so long?" Shawn asked the detectives, only to receive a, "Shut up," from Lassiter. Charlie stepped back as Juliet slapped a pair of handcuffs on Raylene and Lassiter cuffed Wilcroft. She breathed a sigh of relief when Lassiter was outside and no longer in her field of vision.

"He does have nice hair," Gus commented and Charlie wasn't quite sure who he was talking about, but the thought of Lassiter's salt and pepper hair came to mind and she wondered what it would feel like if she burrowed her fingers in it.

"Gah," she muttered, shaking her head again as she ignored Shawn and Gus' little back and forth they were having and started for the Blueberry.

Charlie slept like shit that night, her dreams plagued by the lanky detective and she woke up the next morning, even more tired than she had been the night before. After getting up, showering, and changing into another pair of yoga pants and a sweater that had handguns and bullets all over it, she found Shawn in her kitchen, making some eggs and hash browns, as he claimed, was a thank you for saving his and Gus' lives the night before. She groaned, setting her head down on the table, a migraine beginning to form behind her eyes as Shawn set her a mug of coffee and a plate of food in front of her.

Gus showed up halfway through breakfast, ready to drive his friends to the SBPD. Charlie put her coffee in a togo mug, grumbling as she slipped on her combat boots and slid her satchel across her shoulders.

 **-{A couple hours later…}-**

Her feet felt like they were dragging as she followed after Chief Vick, along with Lassie, Juliet, Shawn, and Gus, despite having her coffee. Her stomach was also in knots at the thought of even being slightly attracted to an asshat like Lassiter, who was totally ignoring her, which was just fine.

"The Wilcrofts are not talking at all to our investigators," Chief Vick said, as the group followed her into her office. Charlie made herself comfortable in one of the armchairs, while Lassiter, Juliet, Shawn, and Gus all stood in front of the Chief's desk. Charlie dug around in her bag and pulled out a bottle of aspirin, taking two of them for her migraine before tuning in to the conversation that was still happening.

"We get indications from their lawyers that they will plead the fifth to all charges, which leaves me with a whole slew of loose ends. For instance, Detective Lassiter, could you tell me how you made the discovery that David Wilcroft was still alive?" Chief Vick questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, actually, Chief, we never made that connection, per se," Lassiter bit out, hanging his head in what Charlie was sure was shame and she felt a sliver of empathy for him. "We were on a stakeout."

"Yes, I see that," Chief Vick said, looking over the report. "You describe it as….'harrowing and intense'."

"I'm sorry," Juliet said, jumping in for her partner. "Those were my words." She turned to said partner and said, "You wanted me to spell-check it."

"I still don't understand how that connected you to David Wilcroft," Vick said, narrowing her eyes at her two detectives.

"Well, that's where we come in, Chief," Gus jumped in. "Some good work was done—"

"By Detective Lassiter," Shawn interrupted. "He was amazing. He figured out there was a connection to Roger Blaine, the cousin, who was involved with the faking of the death. Burnt body, no DNA, pretty convenient, he deducted."

"I never said that," Lassiter said in astonishment, his eyes wide.

"No, but you thought it," Shawn said with a smooth grin and Charlie just rolled her eyes in exasperation. "That's how good you are, Lassie. You practically solved this entire case up here," he said, tapping his head, "without uttering a single word."

"I did nothing of the kind," Lassiter growled, rounding on Shawn. "I was following the money and protecting Raylene."

"Who turned out to be the dangerous one," Vick pointed out, an eyebrow raised.

"Which I picked up from Detective Lassiter's massive brain," Shawn pointed out.

"Not true," Lassiter barked.

"True."

"Not."

"It was so."

"Gentlemen, please," Vick huffed, looking exhausted as only a pregnant woman could. "So we still have no idea where the money is?"

Charlie stifled a loud snort as Shawn put his hand on top of Lassiter's head and Lassie just shoved it off with an extremely irritated look on his face.

"I got nothing from him," Shawn said. "But if he figures anything out, I'll be the first to know."

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Lassiter said through grit teeth, grabbing Shawn and spinning him around, keeping what Charlie could see, was a tight grip on the back of Shawn's neck and she growled under her breath. "We're going to have a private conversation."

As soon as they had left the office, Charlie stood up and walked to the Chief's desk and looked ashamed, using any acting talent that she had.

"Chief, I don't think Lassiter wanted to say anything, considering how we don't get along, but I called him after Shawn had a vision about Wilcroft being alive and I called Detective Lassiter and told him."

"Really?" Vick asked, raising an eyebrow at Charlie.

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie said, nodding.

"But—" Gus started, but Charlie stomped on his foot, instantly shutting him up. When Lassiter and Shawn returned, the former looking even more pissed off than before, Charlie had resumed her seat in the loveseat, her feet thrown up on the small coffee table in front of her.

"Detective Lassiter, regardless of your feelings towards Miss Matthews, next time speak up and when I ask how you knew about David Wilcroft, you should have told me that Charlotte called you," Chief Vick said with a stern look on her face.

Lassiter whirled around to face Charlie, a mixed look of astonishment and anger on his face and she only arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to catch on.

"Yes, Chief," Lassiter growled out leaving her office in a huff.

"That's it, you're dismissed," Vick said with a scowl.

"A minute, Chief?" Shawn asked, walking over to Charlie to pull out her cell phone before approaching the Chief's desk. "Charlie told me that she took a precaution and recorded Raylene's confession on her cell phone. I don't know if that's evidence enough, but it's there if you need it."

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer, Miss Matthews. Please shut the door on your way out," Vick said, looking to be glad to get rid of them.

"Are you stupid, Shawn?!" Charlie hissed at her friend as they left the office. "I just told Vick that I called Lassie after you had a vision about Wilcroft. Now she has my phone and can check my call history and see that isn't true. Now, you're gonna take me home and not bother me for the next twelve hours. I'm assuming you're going out tomorrow?"

"You assume correctly," Shawn said with a nod.

"Then count me in. But if I find you in my apartment before ten, I will kill you, Shawn," Charlie threatened with a menacing glare that had both Shawn and Gus shaking slightly. She stopped to take a breath, letting Shawn and Gus go to the car ahead of her when a hand grabbed her arm, yanking her behind the column she was standing by.

In a split second, she had reached for her very sharp Swiss Army knife that was tucked just inside her boot, only to see it was Lassiter that had grabbed her.

"Are you _trying_ to lose a hand, Lassie?" she growled out, crossing her arms over her chest to glare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," he hissed at her.

"Do what? Save you from possible suspension?" She snarled out. She hadn't expected a thank you from him, but she didn't see a confrontation with a very pissed off Lassiter. "Consider it pay back for the ride. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She stomped out of the station to the Blueberry, kicking Gus out of the driver's seat with one look and took off with the tires squealing slightly, to her apartment, sure that she had sent a record. Ignoring Shawn and Gus' inquiries about what was bothering her, she stormed up the flights of stairs to her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

"Bastard," she hissed herself, grabbing her gym bag, needing to work off steam.

 **-{The next morning}-**

Feeling better the next morning after beating on a punching bag, going a couple rounds with other members, and finally destroying a few targets at the firing range, Charlie packed her satchel with some water bottles and homemade granola bars (Shawn had slipped her a note yesterday before she had gone home about where they were headed; she was sure he only told her because he wanted her granola bars).

Shawn and Gus were waiting downstairs for her and she slid in the backseat, once again ignoring their questions about what had put her in such a pissy mood the day before, and just enjoyed a silent ride out to a bunch of hiking trails in the mountains. She popped her headphones (pausing her mp3 player on Aerosmith Rag Doll) when Gus parked the Blueberry, she stepped out of the car, stretching every which way, popping her joints and groaning.

"What are we doing here?" Gus asked, confused. Charlie snickered at him, wearing his usual clothes, not at all appropriate for hiking trails, and looked down at her own khaki cargos, hiking boots, and flannel shirt thrown over a AC/DC tank top.

"It's Saturday," Shawn said with a shrug. "I thought we'd get some fresh air."

"We drove an hour out of town to get some fresh air?" Gus asked skeptically.

"Well, there's that…" Shawn said, opening the hatchback to reveal shovels, takeout, and Charlie's satchel, which he handed to her before taking out three shovels. "And…and we're going to find the Dread Pirate Wilcroft's dirty booty."

"Okay, I gotta respect the Princess Bride reference," Charlie said with a grin as she fist bumped Shawn, who looked like a kid at Christmas.

"Shawn, the guy's been digging for four years," Gus argued, shaking his head. "We're going to find it in one afternoon?"

"Ninety minutes, tops," Shawn said, grabbing the takeout. "And I brought some chicken for a hearty snack. Ooh, and Charlie brought her awesome granola bars and water."

"You're welcome," Charlie said a little smugly, glad her friends appreciated her for something, if only for her food.

"And how do you plan of finding it?" Gus sneered with his hands on his hips.

"Well, he said he dug up every inch of the Kalish loop after her buried it here, right?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, three miles' worth," Gus confirmed, while Charlie stuck the takeout in her satchel for Shawn after promising him that if it spilled or made her bag smell, he was going to buy her a new one.

"But it was dark, and it had rained," Shawn said and Charlie wondered if he was going somewhere with this. "And he said he thought it was right off the path. He may have gotten lost."

"I heard the story, Shawn," Gus said, getting impatient.

"Yes, are you going somewhere with this, Shawn?" Charlie growled, finally getting impatient, too, enough to ask her question out loud.

"Yes, bear with me," Shawn said to his friends with a sigh. "Did he realize that there is a 'J' Kalish and an 'L' Kalish trail? Dudes, it's completely defunct. Check it out." He handed the map to Gus, Charlie snatching it out of his hands to look at it, realizing Shawn was right, before handing the map to Gus. "Only used by the Rangers for back fires, medical access, mud slide emergency routes, like, for instance, during a torrential rainstorm. Otherwise, it's gated, and it looks completely abandoned from the road."

"Okay, Charlie and I find it. We get credit," Gus said, grabbing a shovel and started down the trail.

"I'm the psychic," Shawn said, with a puppy dog look on his face. Charlie just rolled her eyes at both of her friends' antics and also grabbed a shovel, following after Gus, leaving Shawn behind. "I have to get a vibration. 'Chief?' 'Yes?' 'I'm getting a trailhead, a pathway…and something else.' 'What is it?' 'Chicken bones. Yes, Tandoori style. Fresh.' 'Oh, I bet they were delicious.' 'Yes.'"

"Shawn?" Charlie called back over her shoulder.

"Yes, Charlie?"

"You're such a dumbass."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Super long chapter for you guys and**

 **-Thanks to ShadowSpade: I hope this meets your expectations!**

 **-Thank you masquerade04 for your review!**

 **-Death4bearuty: Aww, I'm glad I was able to deliver this for you lol. The heat will build some more before they get together and I should have some more out soon!**

 **-NicoleR85: Thank you for your review!**

 **It means a lot to me** **And thank you to everyone that favorited/followed my stories.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Charlie.**

-{}-

Glad to have the day off from work, Charlie walked down the sidewalk with her two best friends, chowing down on a mixture of Pork Fried Rice and Sweet and Sour Pork from a takeout container, humming happily with every bite since it was rare for her to eat such a delicacy. Plus, there was the fact that Gus had bought her lunch for her and who could say no to a free lunch?

"Explain to me again why we couldn't sit in a restaurant and eat like civilized people?" Gus complained for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, but Charlie let it slide with only a roll of her eyes, since he had bought her food and all.

"Because it's overrated," Charlie said with a grin before diving back into her food.

"And, moving is good, Gus, it helps the digestion," Shawn said. "Plus, you, me, and Charlie never do this anymore."

"What? Eat and jog?"' Gus asked sarcastically.

"No, talk," Shawn said as Charlie nearly snorted some rice out of her nose, coughing and hacking instead while Shawn pounded on her back. "Just talk. Check in with each other, as men and lady, of course. I wanna know how you two are. I wanna know how Gus and Charlie are."

"Yeah, so not gonna be a part of this conversation," Charlie, getting her breathing under control, walked ahead of them, spotting a coffee shop and went inside to order a Salted Caramel Mocha. When she came back out, Shawn and Gus were waiting just outside for her, still talking.

"…cases nonstop for a month," Gus was saying, as if nervous to tell Shawn what was on his mind. "To be honest, I'm burnt. I just want to take a nap."

The trio kept on walking down the street, Charlie sipping on her free coffee (she had picked Gus' pocket before when he had got her lunch).

"I couldn't agree with you more, buddy," Shawn said, patting Gus on the back. "I think we should lay low for a bit. No more cases."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear you say that," Gus sighed in relief as Charlie juggled her coffee to her elbow crease in order to eat some more on her pork. "I was kind of worried about telling you."

"I could kinda use a break, too," Charlie said around a mouthful of food. "It's exhausting to work two jobs and solve cases, but then you'd never know, Shawn, because you don't actually have a job."

"Oh, ouch," Shawn exclaimed dramatically, grabbing his chest, as if in pain. "And don't be a silly goose, Gus. Now, we've had a good talk, I think we all felt it, and look at this. Here we are."

Charlie let out a groan as they stopped at the police tape of a crime scene and knew that Lassiter was around somewhere and wasn't looking forward to seeing him after what had happened the previous week.

"What is this?" Gus hissed out, eyeing the crime scene tape.

"Okay, here's the thing," Shawn said, as if trying to disarm Gus before he exploded. "The police may have found a body, which I may have picked up on my police scanner, which I may have brought with me."

"Seriously?" Charlie asked with a growl as Shawn pulled the police scanner from his back pocket.

"Yup," Shawn said with a bright grin.

"No cases, Shawn," Gus hissed out. Knowing that Charlie wouldn't step foot in any building that Lassiter was in (he may not be actually psychic, but he knew that something was going on between the detective and his best female friend), Shawn linked arms with Charlie, dragging her towards the building the crime scene was in, despite her screeching and threatening bodily harm. Gus reluctantly followed, but he was mildly amused and amazed at Shawn's courage to manhandle Charlie like he was.

"No cases," Shawn agreed. "We go in, we see. We say hello. And we leave."

"And I kick you in the balls if you don't let go of my arm," Charlie snarled at her friend and Shawn finally let go of her arm with a whimper.

"Sorry," Shawn said with a smile, patting her on the back, discreetly pushing her forward slightly.

"Say hello?" Gus said with disbelief, completely ignoring his two friends in favor of complaining some more. "This is a crime scene. You can't just walk in there."

"McNab," Shawn called out, seeing Officer Buzz McNab standing guard. "Nabby! Buzz," he told Gus and Charlie just shook her head, once more wondering why she was friends with these two idjits ( _thank you, Supernatural and Bobby Singer_ , she thought to herself, looking forward to a new episode later that week).

"Buzz? Seriously?" Gus asked in disbelief.

"That's his first name," Shawn said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you ever talk to him?"

"Why would I talk to anybody named Buzz?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Um, because he's nice," Charlie said sarcastically, smacking him on the arm.

"Shawn! My man! Hey, Charlie," Buzz greeted them with a bright smile. He shook Shawn's hand and then did some weird handshake thing of pointing at each other, bumping elbows, and then Buzz bumped hips with Shawn. He then stepped forward and gave an awkward hug to Charlie, who left her hands trapped to her sides, highly uncomfortable. She had to appreciate Buzz, though, since every time she saw him, he was bubbly and happy and didn't try whatsoever to hit on her like a lot of other guys did; he was only interested in being friends with her.

"Thanks for teaching Francie how to bake cookies," Buzz said with a grin to Charlie, who had spent an afternoon teaching Buzz's fiancé the basics to baking.

"Yeah, no problem," Charlie said with a smile, actually liking his fiancé, thinking she might have another female friend, besides Juliet.

"You look trim," Shawn commented, also looking uncomfortable from the hip bump. "Somebody made their wedding weight."

"Five more pounds," Buzz said with a goofy grin. "I'm close. But I still have a month. That is, unless Bonnie makes more cookies."

"Hey, you asked for me to help her," Charlie said with a smile, taking a chug of her coffee, loving the sweetness that hit her tongue.

"You'll get there," Shawn reassured Buzz. "You remember mine and Charlie's partner?"

"Sure, yeah," Buzz said, looking to Gus. "Matt, right?"

"Gus," he corrected, while Charlie snickered to herself, trying not to spew coffee out of her nose.

"Right," Buzz nodded awkwardly, nodding.

"So, what do you got going on up there?" Shawn asked, changing the subject and indicating to the building. "Don't hold out on me now."

"Looks like a suicide," Buzz said, looking around to make sure no one (Charlie was sure he was looking for Lassiter) was around to hear him tell them about the case. "A guy from the phone company found the victim in his apartment. Been up there for a few days already."

"Few days?" Shawn asked and Charlie could see the intrigue lighting up Shawn's eyes. "You mind if we head up, take a look, poke around a little?"

"Oh, I don't know," Buzz said, shifting a little. "Lassiter's up there and he's in a mood."

Charlie groaned, knowing that if he saw her, Lassie would probably flip his shit and be a holy horror.

"Yeah, we just, uh, got his coffee," Shawn said, snatching Charlie's coffee from her hands without thinking, causing her to snarl at him, sending Shawn, Gus, and Buzz all back a step with fear on their faces. "Uh, wanted to bring it by, make it right."

Shawn cautiously handed Charlie her coffee back, as if he were dismantling a bomb and quickly took Gus' coffee from him. Gus was angry for a moment before realizing that taking his coffee was a much safer option than taking Charlie's; nobody would die from taking his coffee.

"Oh, that's nice of you," McNab said, trying to figure out what had just happened before realizing he didn't actually want to know. "He asked me to get it, but this is perfect."

Charlie kept her Salted Caramel Mocha close to her chest, determined to protect it from Shawn, who took a sip of Gus'/Lassiter's coffee to taste it.

McNab gasped and asked, "Hey, did you just sip that?"

"You don't taste Lassiter's coffee before you give it to him?" Shawn asked, thinking on the spot and talking out of his ass, which caused Charlie to roll her eyes, mostly just glad that it wasn't her coffee that Shawn had taken a drink of. "That surprises me, Buzz. He's so particular. No cream, no sugar…."

"It's three cream, four sugars," Buzz corrected Shawn with a frown and Charlie wrinkled her nose at the sound of the sickeningly sweet coffee; even her Mocha wasn't _that_ sweet.

"Yeah, it is," Shawn agreed.

"Shawn was testing you," Charlie said, raising her eyebrow, playing along with Shawn's fuck-up and Buzz chuckled, thinking that it made sense.

"Yup, I was," Shawn said with a grin. "Sharp as a tack."

"You!" McNab said, blushing, but looking pleased with himself and if she could, Charlie would have smacked herself in the face and exclaimed, "Men!" if she wanted to draw attention to herself, which she didn't.

"And fit!" Shawn flattered Buzz further as they entered the crime scene. McNab turned around and Charlie could see the large, goofy smile on his face and while he wasn't looking, Shawn threw the coffee in the trash.

"I would have killed you if you had done that to my coffee," Charlie hissed to him under her breath and Shawn actually shuddered in fear before rearranging his features as the trio, following Buzz, approached the crime scene. The smell hit her first and Charlie wrinkled her nose in disgust, lifting her coffee up to her nose to mask the smell as well as she could.

Charlie took a sip of her lukewarm coffee before examining the crime scene in front of her. An old man, still in his robe (and Charlie was sure just his underwear under it; why did men feel the need to just sit around in their underwear?), lying dead on the couch with a small orange bottle of pills next her him. Charlie inched her way into the room, discreetly passing by Lassie and Juliet, Shawn and Gus following her.

"We found a note," Juliet explained to Lassiter, while the trio of friends eavesdropped. "The body's been here at least three days. Maybe more. All signs point to an 11-44."

"Three 11-44's in four months?" Lassiter asked incredulously. "There must be something in the water."

"Uh-huh," Juliet commented and Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, thinking that sounded a little funky to her.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, listen up," Lassiter barked, looking around the room, just missing Charlie, Shawn, and Gus. "You know the procedure. I want this done right. I do not want any mistakes." Charlie let out a silent snort as one of the idiotic officers blew inside a plastic evidence bag, letting his DNA coat the inside of it, before placing the orange bottle of pills in it. Amateur, Charlie scowled.

"Hey, blowie," Lassiter snarled at the officer looked up at the gruff detective, wide-eyed and startled. "I know you're new, but next time you want to get your spit all over the evidence, why don't you must lick it?"

Charlie smirked in Lassiter's direction; he sure knew how to put someone in their place and look good doing it.

"Clearly he doesn't need any more coffee," Shawn quipped, watching Lassiter and the idiotic officer.

"Okay, there is the dead guy," Gus said, looking sick. "Can we go now?"

"Relax," Shawn soothed. "We just got here. Have some Mee Krob." He offered Gus his Chinese food and Charlie, forgetting that she was still holding her food, quickly took a large bite of a mixture of pork and rice, humming in happiness at her delicious food.

"How do you two just eat when there's a dead guy laying there?" Gus asked in disgust.

"Well, once you get past the smell…" Charlie teased after she swallowed her food and Gus looked positively sick.

"That is a good point," Shawn pointed out with a grin. "What, is that rude?" he asked at Gus' glare. "Are we supposed to share?"

"Yeah, I'm not sharing," Charlie scowled, struggling not to squeeze and spill her coffee that she was holding in the crease of her elbow as she took another bite. She eyed the forensic guy that walked past the trio and entered the kitchen.

"Forensics," Gus pointed out the obvious (Charlie rolled her eyes) as the friends followed the guy into the kitchen. "Act natural."

The forensics guy opened a cabinet and Shawn gasped suddenly, exclaiming, "That's it!"

"What?" Gus asked. "What do you see?"

"Red pepper flakes," Shawn answered and Charlie was ready to blow her top, especially since Lassiter could walk in at any minute, knowing what Shawn suddenly wanted the pepper flakes for. She started cursing under her breath, calling Shawn every colorful name she could think of and Gus took a step back from his violent friend before asking, "Is that a clue for something?"

"No, it's a delicious spice, and it's exactly what my Mee Krob needs," Shawn said brightly, totally ignoring Charlie, though he bravely patted her on the back. "I told you this."

"Oh my fucking crap," Charlie breathed out as Shawn walked over to the cupboard and took the bottle of red pepper flakes down, examining it. "I'm gonna murder you."

"I'll help you," Gus growled out before hissing to Shawn, "What are you doing? This is a crime scene. You can't touch stuff."

"Yeah, d'you want to be a suspect, even if it's a suicide?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at her moronic friend as a forensics guy opened the fridge. Charlie thought for a second before moving to the microwave, sticking her coffee in it and setting the time for a minute, watching her cup spin around, heating up, thinking, _What the hell_? If Shawn could get away with using objects from the kitchen, she wasn't gonna let a perfectly good microwave go to waste as her coffee cooled.

Gus would have stared at her, wondering what the hell she was doing, but he was preoccupied by Shawn noticing something in the fridge.

"What?" Gus asked, noticing Shawn's 'I've found something interesting' face.

"Seriously, check this out," Shawn said, opening the fridge back up after the forensic agent left the room. Shawn and Gus leaned in to the fridge, jumping out of their skins suddenly when the microwave _dinged_ , indicating that Charlie's coffee was done.

"Problem, boys?" Charlie asked with a smirk, noticing Shawn and Gus hop back from the fridge in fright as she retrieved her coffee.

"No," Gus scowled at his friend, leaning back to see what Shawn had seen, Charlie peering over his shoulder.

"What are we supposed to be looking at?" Charlie asked, looking at Shawn out of the corner of her eyes.

"A marinating steak?" Shawn said, like it should be totally obvious to Charlie and Gus.

"What, you want to eat that, too?" Gus snarked, crossing his arms over his chest, backing up from the fridge, wrinkling his nose at smell of the raw meat.

"No, but don't you find that a little odd?" Shawn asked, looking at Charlie, wondering why she wasn't catching on to what he was getting at. Charlie wasn't watching Gus and Shawn; she was too busy finishing up her Chinese food after hoping up on the kitchen counter. She hung on to the empty container when she was finished, not wanting to throw away the container and chop sticks with her saliva all over them in the trash of an active crime scene.

"That a man would eat a steak?" Gus asked incredulously.

"That a man who was ready to kill himself would take the time to marinate a steak for a future meal? Dude. This was not suicide. This was murder," Shawn summarized and Charlie widened her eyes, realizing what Shawn was getting at and wondered why she could be so stupid to not see it sooner. She followed Shawn and Gus to the living room, where Shawn walked over to the front door, examining the door chain.

"The door latch is still intact," Shawn commented. "Now, I ask you. If you were gonna kill yourself, wouldn't you want the door to be locked so that on one could barge in on you right in the middle?"

"Unless it was murder and he knew the person, actually let them in his home and they killed him," Charlie said and Shawn beamed at her, pointing and said, "Bingo!"

Charlie rolled her eyes before she noticed Gus acting weird, doing something with his eyes to her and Shawn.

"What the fuck are you doing, Gus?" Charlie asked before she froze, feeling a breath on her neck and the presence of someone standing behind her. She slowly turned around as Shawn stuttered out, "What? I don't…What is it? I don't…"

Charlie scowled as she found Lassie behind her, glaring darkly at the trio.

"What in the name of sweet justice are you three doing in my crime scene?" Lassiter growled out and Charlie grit her teeth to avoid starting anything but then an idea popped into her head. She turned back around, leaning back into Lassiter's chest. She tilted her head back and looked at the scowling detective and said in a seductive voice, "You know, I can help you get that stick out of your ass, Detective."

"Your crime scene?" Shawn asked in amusement, taking the opportunity to ask as Lassiter sputtered and Charlie cackled. "That's funny. I didn't see your name on it anywhere."

"Ha ha!" Lassiter said sarcastically shoving the redhead away from him, willing the blood not to rush south from the warmth of the little witches body against his. "Get out!"

"We are," Shawn said, raising an eyebrow while Charlie sent Lassiter a smirk before turning her back, biting her lip to keep from bursting out laughing again and refrained from flipping Lassie off with both hands if only they weren't full of her coffee and her empty Chinese takeout box. "Just thought you might wanna know that this thing here, not a suicide."

"Great," Lassiter barked out, losing his patience entirely. "Thanks for that. Really. And thanks for bringing a snack to the crime scene."

Charlie whirled around to see Lassiter glaring at the takeout container in her hands and scoffed at him, tucking her empty container in the crease of her elbow to flip him off, regardless.

"We all gotta eat, jackass," Charlie hissed before gritting her teeth together audibly.

"Oh, boy! Oh!" Shawn exclaimed suddenly, falling to his knees, holding his chest tightly. "I'm sensing a…I'm sensing there was someone here. Someone here in the room with the victim when he died." Charlie let out a rare actually giggle as Shawn grabbed Lassiter's leg, tugging on it. "Someone with a sliver of grease on his or her shoe." Charlie took a step back as Lassie kicked Shawn, who fell backwards right where she had been standing, before he sat back up on his heels again. "Ah! No, I'm not sensing a struggle. No struggle. The door. Did you have to break down the door when you got here?"

"No, it was open. Why?" Juliet question curiously from behind Charlie, who jumped, as the redhead had forgotten that her only female friend had been there.

"No, no, no," Lassiter said in panic. "Don't encourage him." He grabbed Shawn by the arm. "Get up!"

"Let go of him," Charlie fumed, getting an inch from Lassiter's face, ready to pry his hand off of Shawn. Lassiter sent a death glare at her before releasing Shawn, only to bark over his shoulder, "McNab! I want you to escort these two men and this bitch out of here now!"

"Excuse me?!" Charlie seethed, absolutely done with the fucking asshat detective in front of her. She dropped her empty Chinese container and pulled her arm back and punched him right across the jaw. Lassiter was stunned for a second before grabbing both of Charlie's arms, causing her to drop her coffee, spilling it all over her shoes, slamming her into the nearest wall, pulling out his handcuffs.

"Charlotte Matthews, you are under arrest for assaulting an officer," Lassiter barked almost too gleefully. He also couldn't resist pressing himself against her back to hiss in her ear and felt a primal joy at feeling her shudder from the warmth of his breath. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. McNab! Take her to my car. I'm gonna process her myself."

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Shawn exclaimed, holding up his hands, trying to process what had just happened.

"It's fine, Shawn," Charlie said more calmly than she actually felt. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins and her fingers were starting to go numb from how tightly Lassiter had put the cuffs on her. McNab walked towards her with an apologetic look on his face, as well as awe, as he took her handcuffed hands gently from Lassiter's rough hands and escorted her outside while Charlie shouted, "Fight the fairies, Shawn! Fight the fairies!"

Shawn chuckled at the reference, pretty much the only show/movie that both him and Charlie agreed on and watched together. Charlie didn't bother to struggle against Buzz, knowing that it was no use and that she totally deserved it for hitting Lassiter like that; she shouldn't have lost her cool, even if the fucking prick pissed her off to no end.

The ride back to the station was silent, Lassiter staring straight ahead; it was only broken by Charlie shifting around every once in a while, trying to get comfortable in her handcuffs, which was nearly impossible. An idea suddenly entered her mind and she reached into her back pocket, finding a bobby pin, which she always carried, just in case, and stretched it open, starting to pick her handcuffs.

Lassiter growled deeply when his police scanner went off, dispatch informing that there was another body on the other side of Santa Barbara. He flipped a U-ey in the street and Charlie was nearly flung into the floorboard of the backseat, grabbing onto the back of the seat with one free hand last minute to save herself.

"Watch it!" she snarked at Lassiter, quickly putting her free hand behind her back again when he sent her a death glare in the rearview mirror. Charlie was pleased to see that his jaw was slightly swollen and a light bruising had started to form. "Asshat," she muttered.

After Lassiter picked Juliet up from the previous crime scene (thank fuck Shawn and Gus were gone already), who sent her apologetic looks in the mirror, thinking that her partner had deserved what he had gotten.

Lassiter had to stop and get coffee on the way and Juliet was nice enough to buy a cup for Charlie, holding it until the now handcuff-free woman could drink it. When Lassiter pulled up at the new crime scene, Juliet got out and opened the back door for Charlie.

"What are you doing?" Lassiter barked at Juliet, turning around over the seat to look at them. Charlie only raised an eyebrow at him, one arm folded over her stomach and the other holding out the handcuffs with one finger. "How did you get those off?"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out," Charlie quipped with a wicked smirk. "Besides, I don't do handcuffs unless you buy me dinner first."

Charlie hopped out of the car, completely disregarding Lassiter's sputtering to join Juliet, who was trying to hide a smile, knowing that if Lassiter saw her grin, he would go completely over the edge.

"Thanks, Jules," Charlie said with a friendly smile, taking the coffee that Juliet offered her. Charlie tossed the handcuffs inside the car, smirking at Lassiter. "By the way, I'm not under arrest. If you do decide to press the issue, I'm going to file a harassment charge against you, okay, pumpkin?"

She turned around without sparing Lassiter so much as a look and strode over to where Shawn and Gus were, Shawn strangely holding a cat.

"Freedom!" she shouted, lifting her arms in the air, causing Shawn to burst out laughing and Gus to actually crack a smile. In a very rare moment, she threw her arms around Shawn and Gus, completely ignoring the cat, which let out a hiss and jumped down from Shawn's arms. When she let go, she smirked at them.

"How'd you get out?" Shawn asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be psychic?" Charlie asked sarcastically. "I picked the handcuffs with a bobby pin and threatened Lassie with a harassment lawsuit."

"Nice," Shawn laughed, picking the cat back up.

"So, what's with the cat?" Charlie asked, eyeing the orange tabby as Juliet joined them.

"Detective O'Hara," Shawn greeted with a grin, ignoring Charlie's question in favor of addressing the beautiful blonde that had walked up. "What? You're here all by yourself?" Shawn asked, knowing full and well that Lassiter was there, he just wanted to talk to Juliet.

Juliet pointed at the car that her and Charlie had just left, to indicate to a very pissed off Lassiter getting out of the car, storming over to the crime scene. Charlie suddenly burst into laughter as Lassiter spilled his coffee all over himself, feeling more cheerful than usual.

"Damn it all!" Lassiter spat out, approaching the four as Charlie's hard laughter turned into giggles and his glare turned to her.

"Could have happened to anybody," Shawn said with a chuckle and Lassie's 'I'm gonna kill you' eyes moved to the psychic.

"Talk to me," Lassiter said to Juliet, ignoring Shawn and Charlie with what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face.

"Well, victim is a female in her late twenties, Gloria Starks," Juliet informed him. "We're waiting for forensics to confirm, but appears to be a suicide. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Asphyxiation."

"Oh, I'm afraid the cat doesn't think so," Shawn said, lifting one of the cat's paws in the air, like the cat was waving.

"Turn around and walk away," Lassiter hissed and Charlie stepped in front of Shawn glaring at Lassiter.

"I'll give you a matching bruise," she spat out, putting her hands on her hips. Something strange flashed in Lassiter's eyes and Charlie furrowed her eyebrows before Lassie's eyes steeled over, turning back to Shawn, shaking the thought that she looking fucking sexy when she was pissed off out of his head immediately.

"This cat can tell us if the killer has been here," Shawn said. "All I need is thirty seconds. Watch this. You ready boy? Huh? You ready? What? Over here? Where? Wait." The cat meowed and Charlie wrinkled her nose at the cat. She couldn't believe that she had hugged Shawn and Gus while Shawn had been holding the disgusting animal. "That is…that is very thoughtful. I'll tell him. He says the fact that you take three creamers and four sugars in your coffee, dangerous."

"And nasty," Charlie commented after calming herself down, her comment being ignored by Lassiter.

"It that true?" Juliet asked in shock. "Do you really take three creams and four sugars?"

"So what?" Lassiter scowled.

"So what?" Shawn cried out dramatically. "Carly, that is a heart attack waiting to happen. You're still a young man."

"That was amazing," Juliet said, turning to Shawn in astonishment. "How did you do that?"

"It was a lucky guess," Lassiter fumed, totally done with the psychic detective and his friends, especially the red-head, who was the bane of his existence.

"Don't you get tired of saying that?" Shawn asked, knowing that Lassie wouldn't actually answer. "Now, with your permission. I'd like the little boy cat to sniff out the car."

"Absolutely not," Lassiter growled, but Shawn ignored him, giving a dramatic gasp and acted like he was tripping, throwing the cat in the backseat of the car.

"Oops!" Shawn cried out, feigning looking apologetic and Charlie smirked, taking a large gulp of her coffee, forgetting how hot it was, burning her mouth, hissing in pain. Gus, ever the worrywart, put his hand on her shoulder, making sure she was okay. Charlie only growled at him, shrugging his hand off, not one for pity, though she knew she would pay for drinking her coffee too fast the next few days when her mouth was going to be nearly too painful to eat.

"What did I just say?" Lassiter sighed in exasperation after sparring the red-head a glance, concern flooding him when he heard her hiss of pain, though he tried to shake it off and appear indifferent.

"Just relax and let him do his job," Shawn tried to sooth Lassie, holding his hands up in defense. "He might find something."

Charlie turned her attention from her coffee and already painful mouth to Shawn, who inched closer to the windshield of the car and she knew that he had found something. Squinting her eyes because of the distance, she could see some sort of writing on the windshield, but couldn't make out what it said.

"He's peeing," Lassiter snarked out, ready to shoot the psychic, his friends, the cat, and anyone else who annoyed the shit out of him that day. Charlie let out a chuckle as she observed the cat peeing on the suit in the backseat before wrinkling her nose as the smell hit her and she gagged. Cats disgusted her; _But at least I'm not deathly scared of cats like I am dogs,_ she thought to herself, backing up to be in the fresh air so she didn't ruin a crime scene with vomit.

"No, he's drawing your attention to the evidence in the backseat," Shawn argued, trying to pass it off as a psychic vibe.

"By peeing on it," Lassiter pointed out sarcastically. "Nice." Charlie snorted as Lassie halfway climbed into the car, calling, "Come here, kitty, kitty, kitty."

Charlie was hoping the cat would at least scratch Lassiter as he grabbed it and pulled it out of the car, handing it back to Shawn, but no such luck. She snorted again at the next words that came out of Shawn's mouth, wondering sometimes if her friend needed a psych evaluation to determine him mental status.

"Yes, did you make good pee-pee?" Shawn cooed at the cat, stroking the cat. "Did you make good pee-pee? Yes, you did. What?" The cat meowed and Shawn laughed as Charlie exchanged a raised eyebrow and a concerned look with Gus, who was thinking the same thing Charlie had been. "What? That's a…that's a little inappropriate," Shawn said as he laughed again. "I'm sorry. That's, that's rude. He was just saying that he would have done the same thing if he'd killed himself. He would have swung by the dry cleaners and grabbed the pantsuit first."

"Maybe she picked up the dry-cleaning days ago," Lassiter argued, not wanting Shawn to be right about it. "Did the cat ever think of that?"

"What are you doing?" Gus asked Juliet, watching the forensics guy sticking a carbon monoxide tester in the tailpipe of the car. Charlie shook her head, disappointed in Gus' lack of knowledge, despite the fact that she had tried to give him the basics of the car so he wouldn't ever be screwed if he ended up on his own in the middle of nowhere.

"He is measuring the amount of carbon monoxide emitted," Juliet said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Gus should have known that.

"Uh-huh," Gus said, nodding his head rapidly. "Uh-huh. Okay. I knew that." He turned to Shawn and Charlie and said, "I knew that."

"Yeah, you did," Shawn said, not very convincingly.

"You so didn't know that, Gus," Charlie said, raising an eyebrow at her friend, who glared at her. "I think it's time for another course in mechanics."

Gus looked absolutely terrified at that, remembering the last time Charlie had tried to teach him basic mechanics. Charlie suddenly jumped, startled, as one of the officers turned on the car, only to blare heavy metal rock from the stereo speakers. She clapped her hands over her ears and screeched out, "What the fuck?!" at the same time Shawn exclaimed, "Whoa!"

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing her abused ears, muttering something about, "terrible taste in music" as the same police officer quickly turned off the radio, leaving the car running.

"Now, does she strike you as the type that would go for heavy metal?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow at Lassiter.

"Any number of people could have changed her radio station," Lassiter growled, coming up with any reason not to agree with Shawn.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Shawn," Charlie warned him, her friend knowing that on top of the Classic Rock that she liked, Charlie was also fond of Classical music and old Jazz, though she didn't look it at all.

"Mr. Spencer, if you and your new partner are finished urinating on things, I believe your work here is done," Lassiter barked out, wanting the cat, and especially Shawn, to leave him in peace. He turned his back on Shawn, Gus, and Charlie, whispering to Juliet, though Charlie couldn't make out what he had said; she was betting it was about the dry cleaning, though.

Free to leave the crime scene without handcuffs on, Charlie kicked the stupid cat to the backseat with Gus, tired of riding in the backseat for the day. Gus was also pouting about the comment that Lassie had made about the cat being Shawn's new partner, though Charlie wasn't sweating it, planning on dumping the cat at the first animal shelter they came across.

"Look, I don't care what Lassiter says," Shawn said, trying to sooth Gus, who was sitting cramped in the backseat, trying to keep his distance from the feline. "The cat is not my new partner, Gus. Don't be ridiculous."

"Then tell me again why the cat was going to ride shotgun before Charlie kicked it back here with me?" Gus asked scathingly with his arms folded over his chest.

"He gets carsick, and you know this," Shawn said, looking at his friend in the rearview mirror while Charlie smirked. "I'm guessing you want him to throw up again back there?" he asked, turning to Charlie. "Is that what you want?"

"Not my car," Charlie said with a shrug, sticking her arm out the window.

"It's not funny, Charlie, Shawn," Gus said with a glare to his friends as he went about laying newspapers down all over the backseat, making sure the cat was sitting on it.

"He's doing fine, aren't you?" Shawn said, addressing the cat with a coo and Charlie rolled her eyes. She never really saw the point of pets, other than the odd cat to keep mice away and dogs just terrified the fuck outta her.

"This is a company car, Shawn," Gus seethed. "That means I have to return it in like-new condition. Which means putting down newspapers and keeping damn cats out of my car!"

As he ranted, Gus waved the newspaper around, which Shawn caught in the rearview mirror and reached his hand around and snatched it right out of Gus' hand.

"Whoa, whoa!" Shawn exclaimed, glancing down at the paper while mostly keeping his eyes on the road. "Look at this!"

He handed Charlie the paper and she read the headline, 'Struggling Actress Lands Big Break in Santa Barbara Play' and saw underneath the article, there was a photo of the victim they had just seen sitting in her car.

"Huh," she commented, handing the paper back to Gus, now knowing that the suicides were actually murder. Who would get their big break like that and then kill themselves?

"Seventy percent off storm doors and window panes?" Gus asked incredulously. "Everything must go."

"Gus, flip it over," Shawn sighed in exasperation. "It's her."

Charlie didn't bother to turn around in her seat, always one to get carsick herself, but she heard the newspaper rattle as Gus flipped it over.

"'Struggling Actress Lands Big Break in Santa Barbara Play'," Gus read the same title Charlie had.

"And then she kills herself?" Shawn asked sarcastically. "I don't think so."

"Okay, you might be onto something," Gus admitted.

"He's definitely onto something, Gus," Charlie scolded her friend. "He was since the beginning."

"Yeah," Shawn said with a smug look, grinning at Charlie.

"The play is called Dazzle and Stretch?" Gus asked and Charlie raised an eyebrow at the title.

"Dazzle and Stretch?" Shawn repeated in disbelief as he drove towards the station to inform the Chief of Shawn's latest 'psychic' find. Skirting around Lassiter's desk in the bullpen or else likely to throw another punch his way, Charlie entered the Chief's office, making herself comfortable in one of the armchairs the Chief had decorating the space, kicking her feet up on the matching coffee table before the Chief sent her a glare and she sheepishly pulled them down, not wanting to piss off a pregnant woman.

Charlie had to hold in a snicker at the scowl Gus had on his face as Shawn and the cat were sitting in the chairs in front of the Chief's desk, but he stood behind Shawn's chair, looking like he was ready to strangle his best friend.

"So, what you are trying to tell me is now it's the cat that's convinced these weren't suicides?" the Chief asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Shawn answered simply, a pleasant smile on his face while Charlie managed not to snort at how ridiculous her life had gotten in the past couple months.

"Do you really think I'm going to open a bunch of closed cases just because a cat tell me to?" the Chief asked sarcastically and Charlie noticed the Chief was starting to get irritated. She wrinkled her nose at the cat smell that was slowly invading her nostrils as the dumb thing meowed.

"This is it," Shawn said, looking excited as he leaned closer to the cat, which continued to meow, which Shawn returned; Charlie didn't know what to think of her friend at that point. "Yes, this is it. The girl that was found in her car, Gloria Starks, she's here. She's here with us."

"Ho-ly fuck," Charlie hissed to herself, exchanging bewildered looks with Gus as Shawn stood up suddenly, staggering around before walking around seductively, pretending to be possessed by Gloria Starks and he spoke in a high-pitched voice.

"Oh, despair!" Shawn voice wobbled slightly as he tried to keep the high pitch and Charlie just shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. "I fear that you will leave me. What choice do I have?"

"Oh, good lord," Charlie uttered as Shawn then proceeded to sing and dance around the room, trying to involve Charlie at one point, but she just sent him a nasty glare.

"I dazzle, and I stretch," Shawn sang, trying to keep the tune as Charlie grimaced at the truly awfulness of his voice. "I dazzle, and I stretch."

"What the hell is going on here?" Lassiter said, entering the office after seeing the commotion through the windows in the Chief's office. Charlie can only offer the Detective a simple shrug as the Chief shushed him, not really too sure herself as to what she was seeing and hearing; maybe Shawn had finally gone off the deep end.

"Mr. Spencer, this is telling me nothing," the Chief said, suddenly looking tired.

"He can't hear you right now 'cause see, he's channeling the cat who's channeling Gloria," Gus supplied to the Chief, who looked at Charlie for conformation, who only nodded, not able to form actual words.

"I dazzle," Shawn sang again and Charlie had to fight the urge to throw her hands over her ears; it sounded like a dying cat, no offense to the actual cat in the room.

"Well, then what are we looking at?" the Chief asked in bewilderment.

"Bad acting," Lassie growled and Charlie nearly snorted in laughter, grudgingly inclined to agree with the Head Detective for once.

"And stretch," Shawn continued, ignoring everyone's comments as he pulled the newspaper out of Gus' suit and started dancing his way around Lassie to face the Detective.

"I think she wants you to see something in the paper," Gus said, being way too obvious about it and Charlie shook her head before leaning her head back on the armchair, staring up at the ceiling. "Gloria's trying to tell you something," Gus continued, giving Charlie a 'c'mon, get with the program' look as Shawn shook the newspaper in front of Lassie's face.

"Something very important," Charlie added after clearing her throat.

"Dazzle, and stretch," Shawn sang out again and Charlie had to roll her eyes at the lengths he went to-to make it seem like he was psychic.

"'Seventy percent off on storm doors and window panes. Everything must go'," Lassiter read in an incredulous tone before scowling at Shawn, who quickly turned the paper over. Lassie snatched the paper out of Shawn's hands to read it without the idiot waving the stupid newspaper around. "'Struggling actress lands big break in Santa Barbara play.' So what?"

"So what?" Gus asked, getting slightly upset that Lassiter wasn't taking it seriously. "Does that sound like a woman who would kill herself?"

"Please, all actresses are crazies," Lassiter scoffed and Charlie merely raised an eyebrow at him, wondering how he was so cynical all the time. "I know, I dated one in college once; she had a nose ring."

"Really, now?" Charlie asked with a grin, wanting to get under his skin, and not in the good way. Lassie just shot her a dark glare (not missed by the Chief, who noticed Lassiter's spreading bruise on his jaw) as Shawn stretched and groaned, finally speaking in his normal voice.

"Good work, little buddy," Shawn cooed, sitting down on Lassiter's lap and Charlie snorted loudly, commenting on how she didn't think Lassie swung that way as the detective looked shocked and then repulsed.

"I don't know," the Chief said, reading through the newspaper. "This is something."

"Something?" Shawn asked, still in Lassiter's lap. "Oh, come one. That's the biggest thing that ever happened for that girl. Now, you need to stop waiting around for another suicide, and start looking for a serial killer."

"Spencer, get off my lap," Lassiter hissed through his teeth before dumping Shawn onto the floor. Charlie chuckled as she stood up and helped her friend up off the ground before sitting on Lassie's lap herself, loping her arms around his neck.

"Aww, Shawn didn't mean anything by it, Lassie," Charlie said with a smirk as she felt something digging into her thigh. "Besides, I don't think he's your type."

With a wink, she hopped off his lap, leaving him to flush darkly and leave the Chief's office as fast as he could, leaving Charlie to wonder if he was off to take a cold shower in the locker room.

"C'mon, boys, things to do, murders to solve," Charlie said to Shawn and Gus, starting to leave the office.

"Miss Matthews, a moment please?" Chief Vick asked and Charlie wrinkled her nose and scowled before turning around with a pleasant look on her face, knowing she had to play nice if she wanted to keep her job there.

"Oh course, Chief," she answered as Shawn and Gus passed her, Shawn hissing, "Ooh, getting sent to the principal's office!" under his breath as we went by.

"Moron," she growled before taking a seat in the chair Lassiter had just occupied moments before. "What can I do for you, Chief?"

"You can stop hitting my officers, for one, Miss Matthews," the Chief scowled, but Charlie could also see some amusement in her eyes. "Even if it was deserved."

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie sighed, standing up to meet Shawn and Gus at the car. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, no matter how much he pisses me off."

"Thank you, Miss Matthews," the Chief said with a nod. "You may leave now."

Charlie stuffed her hands in her pants pockets, leaving the Chief's office with a scowl on her face, only plastering on a smirk when she passed Lassiter's desk, teasing him his her best 'fuck me' eyes as she waltzed on by, heading outside to slide herself in the backseat of the Blueberry, the scowl resuming its place on her face.

She threw herself in her favorite armchair when they got back to Psych, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair, wishing she had more coffee for the shit day she had had so far. She groaned, arching her back, sighing in relief when she heard several pops emit from her spine, much to Gus' disgust, who hated the sound of popping joints. She closed her eyes and relaxed her head on the back of the armchair, listening to Shawn digging around in his desk drawer for a white board marker to write on his transparent board he had bought.

"Wrong marker," Charlie told her friend without opening her eyes, knowing that he had grabbed the Sharpie by mistake; he always did. "Dry erase markers are in the top drawer of my desk."

"Thanks, Charles, that helps me a bunch," Shawn drawled sarcastically, grabbing the bunch of markers and stowed them in his desk, making them much easier for him to find in the future. Charlie grit her teeth at the squeaking sound of the markers on the board, the noise slowly driving her to insanity and a migraine.

"What does hit mean?" Gus asked, watching Shawn fill out the board with all the information they had learned so far.

"I have no idea, but I've seen it on Numb3rs all the time, and it seems to work for them," Shawn said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"That's because it's a fictional show," Charlie scoffed from her seat, opening her eyes to look at the jumbled mess Shawn had filled out on the board as said friend flipped her off, much to her amusement.

"You ready to give up?" Gus asked, knowing a bit of reverse psychology might work on Shawn; then again, the pseudo-psychic may pick up on it.

"Well, walk us through it," Charlie input, wishing, once again, they kept coffee in the office. _I may just have to pick Gus' pocket again_ , she thought to herself. "Maybe you'll see something you missed before."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Gus said, looking at Charlie gratefully, who only shrugged.

"Four separate suicides, two of which occurred before we came on the case, and I don't see a pattern of any kind," Shawn huffed in frustration, which was rare for him; usually he was a big ball of happiness and silver linings, which got on Charlie's nerves a lot. "Different ages, different sexes."

"Different socio-economic levels," Gus pointed out.

"Different methods of death," Shawn contemplated, staring at his board as if it would suddenly give him the answers he sought out. "No duplicate weapons, locations. Man, what have we got? First, we have a jumper; second, an oven; third, pills; fourth, carbon monoxide. They all have to be connected somehow, and what I see is a whole lot of nothing."

"Nothing," Gus scoffed in agreement, also looking at the board. Charlie threw her legs back down to the floor in front of her, leaning forward to look through all the pictures, seeing if she could see a connection, but she couldn't see anything and frowned. A moment later, she could practically see the light bulb go off over Shawn's head as he muttered, "Wait a minute," and took the picture of the jumper and put it on top, beside the picture of the old man that overdosed.

"What are you doing?" Gus asked and Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, also trying to make sense of what Shawn was up to.

"Turning things upside down in order to make them right side up," Shawn answered cryptically as he stood back to look at the changes he made to the board. "And there is the prize."

"I don't get it," Charlie said, eyeing the board in confusion.

"I'll explain it on the way," Shawn said, suddenly jumping into action, rushing out the door before calling over his shoulder, "Let's go!"

Charlie looked at Gus for a moment before yelling out, "Shotgun!" sprinting outside, sliding in the front seat, giving Gus a victorious smirk. Charlie made Shawn stop for coffee and made Gus pay for it for all the times that she fed them when they crashed at her apartment like they were strays.

Charlie let out a frustrated growl as Shawn really didn't explain his idea on the way to where ever it was they were heading, the pseudo psychic preferring the element of surprise; he wouldn't prefer it for much longer, after Charlie punched him in the nose. Her and Gus found out where they were headed as Shawn barrowed Charlie's phone to call a man, asking about an apartment and if it was alright if he came by to look at it.

"This is the prize?" Gus asked skeptically as they stood outside of the apartment of the first dead guy. "Going to the first dead guy's place and what? Talk to a dead guy?"

"No, we talk to the dead guy's brother," Shawn cleared up for them.

"The dead guy's brother lives at the dead guy's place?" Gus asked, looking slightly grossed out.

"A, that's a bit creepy, and B, I'm sure the dead guy has—had—a name, Gus," Charlie scolded her friends for calling the man 'dead guy.'

"Yeah, so what's his name, Charlie?" Gus questioned her.

"I have no idea," Charlie scowled at her friend. "I never claimed to know it; I only said he had one."

"Anyways," Shawn said, rolling his eyes, wondering if this was what Charlie put up with, with himself and Gus. He reached out and buzzed the correct apartment, waiting. "They were roommates, but that's the point. He's getting rid of the apartment, and we're here to rent it."

Charlie snorted to herself, thinking she could have some fun with this as they climbed the stairs to the apartment, Shawn knocking on the door.

"Why can't we, for once, just talk to somebody as us?" Gus asked with a huff, tired of lying to people.

"Because, Gus, I don't want him to be on guard," Shawn said, as if explaining it to a child. "If he thinks we're investigating something, he'll clam up." Shawn turned his attention back to the door as it opened. "Wes Hiltonblock?" Shawn asked the man on the other side, putting a pleasant smile on his face.

"Yeah?" the man asked, looking a little wary.

"Hey, uh, Shawn Spencer," Shawn introduced himself. "I talked to you on the phone about the, uh, the apartment. And this is Gus and Charlie. It would actually be for all three of us."

"Yeah," Wes said with a nod, clearly not put off by their odd relationship. "Okay, uh, come on in."

"Thanks, man," Shawn said with a grin and Charlie followed her friends and Wes into the apartment and Charlie held in a snicker as she said cheerfully, "Oh, don't mind me; I'm just a friend that came to help my Besties find their first apartment. It's so special and magical."

Shawn only grinned at his friend, appreciating her humor while it took Gus a moment to process what she had said, and once he got it, he started sputtering like crazy and Wes looked at him like he was having a seizure, going so far as to offer him a glass of water and a place to sit.

Getting past Gus' weirdness, Wes continued, turning to Shawn to say, "Just so you guys know, the utilities are included, um, but I would require first and last month and a sizeable security deposit."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Shawn assured the man, Gus now glowering at Charlie, offended by his friend's implication that he and Shawn were a gay couple. "You take cats?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Wes stuttered, looking slightly shifty-eyed to Charlie, who carefully observed the man. "You two guys have a cat?"

"We do, actually," Shawn said, rolling with Charlie's joke of him and Gus being together; Gus moved his death glare from Charlie to Shawn in that moment. "He's sort of like our child."

"I see. How do you guys know each other?" Wes asked, his curiosity getting the best of him of needing to find out if the two men in front of him were really _together,_ together.

"We're partners," Gus supplied, speaking without thinking and Charlie nearly lost it then, her face turning red to keep from bursting out laughing at Gus' expense.

"Got you," Wes said with a nod, getting the answer he was looking for.

"Oh, no, no, no," Gus said quickly, realizing him mistake as a snort escaped Charlie.

"No, it's fine," Wes assured Gus, thinking that he was embarrassed that he had admitted it, rather than horrified that anyone would think that about him and Shawn. "Really, I'm totally fine."

"No, we're partners in a private—" Gus started, but Shawn cut in to keep Gus from spilling the beans about investigating Wes' brother and Charlie discreetly elbowed Gus in the side, shutting him up.

"—Relationship," Shawn finished for Gus. "Believe it. It's been a while. We finish each other's sentences. So, tell me, Wes, uh, why would you want to give up such a handsome apartment? Do you…do you not like it anymore?"

As he's speaking, Shawn wanders off in the apartment, coming back after a moment, pocketing something, before declaring, "Ooh, Gus, good news, shower for two."

"There's a lot of fun you could have in that," Charlie commented and Gus actually growled at her, which she thought was adorable. "Especially after a long, stressful day."

Suddenly remembering that she was single and going through a painfully dry spell, Charlie wondered if she should go to a bar that night and take someone home with her…maybe she could run into a certain lanky detective… _Fuck!_ she yelled at herself, mentally shaking her head to stop that train wreck of a thought in its tracks.

"Uh, actually, I just have some bad memories here," Wes said sadly and Charlie steeled herself to her traitorous thoughts to look at the man in rapt attention. "I used to…I used to live here with my brother, but he passed away."

"Oh, my god, that's awful!" Charlie exclaimed, in character. She reached forward, pulling the man into a hug. "You poor man!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, man," Shawn said, taken aback by Charlie's acting skills. "Was he sick, or…?"

"He killed himself," Wes said, looking crushed and Charlie hugged him tighter, fighting her panic to let go and run away, hating this sort of touchy-feely crap.

"I'm so sorry," Shawn said sincerely as Charlie finally let go of Wes, stepping back to have room to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Gus said almost too late.

"Yeah, me, too," Wes said with his head hung low, taking in a deep breath. "We were real close, you know."

"God, was he depressed?" Shawn asked, trying as hard as he could to not seem insensitive, else he fear Charlie's wrath. "I mean, were there signs? Did you…what am I—I'm sorry, you don't have to answer those questions."

"No, actually, I had no idea anything was wrong, you know? I mean, he had so much to live for," Wes said, looking like he was trying not to cry. "He was a great guy, you know. Smarter than me, more talented. He was a great singer. He was really going places. So look, are you guys…you guys interested in the place, or…?"

"What d'you think, honey?" Shawn asked, turning to Gus with a mock-dreamy look on his face when looking at his best friend. "I think it's great. I think it's perfect."

"All right, then," Wes said with a nod, brushing his tears away. "Well, I got another couple coming by a little later so, uh, but I'll let you guys know either way."

"You guys so aren't getting that apartment," Charlie teased as they walked back to the car, Charlie actually sliding in the backseat. "The whole, 'I'll let you know.' That always means, 'I'm gonna pass you over for another person.' Happened to me once, at a job I applied to."

"Yeah, well, you're….you," Gus said, gesturing with his hand.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Charlie demanded. If she had the room, her hands would be on her hips, but she gave Gus her best death glare.

"Uh, nothing, Charlie, I promise," Gus said, swallowing, his eyes betraying his fear.

"Sure, whatever you say, Burton," Charlie seethed, knowing exactly what he meant; she was just too different. She put people off at first sight with her appearance and then her personality when she opened her mouth.

"I'll owe you some coffee," Gus offered to her.

"And pizza for dinner," Charlie said, letting a smile slip through, which in turn caused Gus to smile before it dropped.

Driving, Gus asked, "Shower for two?" directing his question scathingly at Shawn.

"That was so I could see your face when I said it," Shawn said and Charlie burst out laughing in the backseat, finally losing her shit.

"You know, you two enjoy these things more than you should," Gus growled, glaring at both of his friends. "I suffered through that for no reason. We learned nothing."

"Actually, we learned that his brother was an up and coming singer, just like that actress," Charlie said, getting her giggles under control.

"That's true," Shawn said, nodding. "Also, I grabbed this while we were up there." Charlie snorted as Shawn pulled an envelope out of his pocket, showing her and Gus.

"You took his mail?" Gus asked incredulously.

"It's not like I took his _Sports Illustrated_. Dude, it's just a phone bill," Shawn said with a snort and Charlie chuckled.

"I'd love to hear you say those words to Lassie," Charlie said with a grin, ignoring Shawn's narrowed eyes as he turned around to glare at her.

"You can't open someone else's mail, Shawn," Gus argued. "It's a federal offense."

"Gus does have a point," Charlie input, not wanting to go to a federal prison for the rest of her life.

"Gus, Charlie, he's dead," Shawn said in his dramatically soothing voice.

"So what?" Gus growled.

"Well, maybe I'll hold it on my head and read it psychically," Shawn said sarcastically, actually holding the envelope on his forehead.

"Hurry up, Shawn," Gus said, looking around nervously to see if anyone was watching them.

"Gus, who's gonna see us?" Shawn asked in disbelief and Charlie snorted; they were in a moving car and there weren't many people out and about on the sidewalks.

"Hurry up," Gus still insisted.

"Pussy," Charlie muttered, smirking when Gus glared at her in the rearview mirror as Shawn opened the envelope, pulling out the phone bill, reading it.

"Wait, there's like…there's like sixteen calls here to some 1-800 stress line including the last call he made," Shawn read it to Gus and Charlie.

"Ugh, is that that very annoying TV commercial telling people to call them to 'karate chop stress'?" Charlie asked, wrinkling her nose. "I hate that commercial."

"Yeah, it is annoying," Gus agreed with his friend before turning to Shawn. "So what? A depressed guy calls a stress line, and I get you a hungry guy who calls a pizza place. That doesn't tell us anything."

"Yeah, but it might give us a link," Shawn said. "I'm gonna run the other victims' phone records."

"With what?" Gus asked incredulously. "Your do-it-yourself phone record running kit?"

"The next best thing," Shawn said mysteriously before directing Gus to the police station.

"I think that sentence got away from you, Gus Gus," Charlie chuckled, teasing her friend.

At the police station, Charlie sat on Lassiter's desk, which was mercifully empty, reclined on the palms of her hands, crossing one leg over the other as Shawn had a 'psychic vision' whilst talking to Juliet.

"The answer is in the phone bills," Shawn predicted. "I need you to run the victims' phone records."

"What? No cat this time?" Juliet asked rather sarcastically and Charlie had to raise an eyebrow at her friend, wondering if she was usually this sassy.

"Julie, I'm very serious about this," Shawn urged. "I have a strong sense about a stress line, and I know the link is in the phone records."

"I don't know why you would think I would do something like this for you," Juliet said, looking very unsure.

"I think you've been drinking too much of Lassiter's Kool Aid," Charlie commented with a smirk, saying it loud enough when she noticed said detective walking up behind Shawn. Juliet only scowled at her friend, not getting the chance to say anything as Shawn commented, "No Charles, that's not it. Some have said it's the hair."

"Really?" Lassiter growled sassily from behind Shawn and Charlie had to grin at the look of betrayal that Shawn sent her for not alerting him to Lassie's presence. "Who says that? Oh, guess what? We already ran the phone record, and checked out the dry-cleaning. Turns out the pantsuits were picked up over a week ago. What kind of dog and pony show do you think we run here?"

"Gus, you wanna take this one?" Shawn asked.

"No," Gus replied immediately.

"Charlie?" Shawn turned to the woman that was still perched on Lassiter's desk.

"I _really_ don't think poor Lassie wants me to answer that question, Shawn," Charlie said, give a very fake and exaggerated yawn.

"Let me put an end to this non-case right now, okay?" Lassiter snarled. "Yes, all the victims called the 1-800 stress line. Not just once. Many times over. And get off my desk."

"Yeah, not gonna happen; I'm too comfortable," Charlie commented, wiggling her ass on the desk, proving just how comfy it was and she smirked at Lassiter as she fantasized just all the trouble she could get into on the desk.

"Detective Lassiter and I have combed everything," Juliet continued on, not noticing the tension that was happening between Lassiter, though Shawn defiantly noticed. "We've gone to the bone on these."

"All the way to the bone?" Shawn asked, being a smartass and Charlie sent a kick to his shin for being a jerk to Juliet like that.

"I know this is hard for you to grasp, but these people did have something in common," Juliet said softly, as if addressing a small child. "They were troubled, and they were depressed, and as sad as that is, they all committed suicide. Case closed."

"We've clearly wasted your time," Shawn said in disappointment. Lassiter helped Charlie off his desk, or nearly shoved her off, depending on who you asked; she scowled at him before smirking and running her fingers down his chest, grinning as he shuddered under her touch.

"See ya later, Jules," Charlie said, also a bit disappointed in her friend's lack of faith and then waggled her fingers at Lassiter and said in a sultry voice, "I'll see you later, Detective," before cackling as she walked away after Shawn and Gus.

"It's not over, is it?" Gus asked Shawn as they headed out of the station to the parking lot.

"Of course not," Shawn replied in a tone that suggested that Gus didn't know him at all. "They all called the same help line and then killed themselves? Come on!"

"Shawn, that's what stressed people do," Gus tried to stress to his friend.

"No, Shawn in right," Charlie said. "This it too much of a coincidence to ignore."

Waiting and watching Lassiter and Juliet leave, Shawn replied to Gus, "'Cause she was stressed about an audition. You call a help line and they find you dead? That's not very helpful. What if someone there is killing the callers and making it look like suicide? Gus, we go tot the stress line, I think we solve the case. Come on, guys."

Charlie took over driving, not getting many opportunities to do so, going where Shawn directed her to, parking outside of a tall business building downtown.

"Wow, I am so underdressed," Charlie observed, looking down at her pretty much grunge style and then up to the swanky building.

"We all are, except for Gus, who always dressed like a snob," Shawn said in a teasing voice when Gus glared at him and Charlie chuckled. Shawn led them inside and in the elevator, going up. Charlie, who wasn't paying much attention, wasn't sure what floor they got off on, just following Shawn and Gus to a door with a sign that read 'Dial-A-Psychic'.

"Ta-da!" Shawn exclaimed, indicating to the sign with flourish.

"What the hell?" Charlie said. "I thought we were going to question the employees of the stress line."

"Yeah, what is this?" Gus asked, agreeing with Charlie, which was rare.

"You're looking at our new business. Mozel tov," Shawn said with a grin, ignoring the stunned look and then the death glare Charlie sent his way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Gus hissed at his friend. "You rented office space for this?"

"Yeah and with whose money, Shawn Spencer? None of my money had better be in this crap business," Charlie seethed, mentally going over her list of bills versus the amount her pay checks should add up to and there was hardly any room for groceries, never mind a damn office space.

"Gus, don't be a crazy hooligan, and Charlie, take a chill pill and mellow out," Shawn tried to sooth both of his friends tempers. "I rented a sign." He opened the door to show them that their office space was actually a storage room/janitor closet.

"Of course it's a fucking closet," Charlie grumbled, not really that fond of tight spaces; she wasn't claustrophobic or anything, it just made her uncomfortable.

"Now, let's go say hello to our new neighbors," Shawn said cheerfully, ignoring both Gus and Charlie's less-than-pleased looks on their faces as he produced a pineapple seemingly out of thin air.

The 1-800 stress line (Karate chop stress!) was located just down the hall from them, almost too conspicuous in Charlie's opinion and she was so bored and not wanting to be in the swanky (to her) office building that she thought about ditching and getting groceries to take home.

"Hello, everyone!" Shawn announced loudly, grating on Charlie's nerves; her emotional rollercoaster had been relaxed and had just taken a sharp right turn to so fucking done and she was ready to punch Shawn. Maybe her period was getting close….

"Who wants pineapple?" Shawn continued on. "Be honest. Nah, you guys can slice it up, fight over it later."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, lady, may I help you?" a man asked, walking up to them and Charlie let out a growl in her throat, already disliking the man for some reason. "I'm Terrence. I run the line here."

Terrence shook both Shawn and Gus' hands but when he made to do the same with Charlie, Charlie kept her arms crossed firmly over her chest, glaring at the man until he backed away. Yup, definitely close to her period, if her mood swings were anything to go by; she would probably be sobbing her eyes out to some stupid movie later that night.

"Terrence, hello," Shawn greeted the man after sparing Charlie a quick side glance, observing her violent mood. "I'm Shawn Spencer; these are my partners Gus 'Silly Pants' Jackson and Charlie 'I'm Gonna Hit Someone' Matthews. Just came by to say hello. We've opened up our own little 1-800 thingy down the hall. Not as big as you guys. More of a closet, really, much to Charlie's annoyance."

"Your own 1-800 thingy, huh?" Terrence asked suspiciously, as if he was scared they were going to pounce on their business and topple it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's called Dial-A-Psychic," Shawn clarified, trying not to off-put the man too much; they still needed to snoop around the place and investigate. "Maybe you recognize us. I am the lead psychic for the Santa Barbara police department."

Charlie had to let out a snort as the room was silent, nobody calling out, "Hey, yeah! I've heard of you!"

"McCallum murders? Edmond robberies?" Shawn tried to spark someone's recollections of the pseudo-psychic. "Over there, you? Nothing? Nothing? Wow, really. What, do you guys live in this room?"

Charlie snorted in annoyance as everyone else in the room laughed.

"So, you can know stuff about me just by looking at me?" one guy asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Shawn said with a shrug.

"Do it," another employee challenged.

"Go ahead," the first employee said with determination. "Show us."

"Looking for a little demo," Shawn said, looking over at Charlie and Gus with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, for one, they don't like pineapple," Gus commented and everyone laughed again.

"Pineapple is nasty," Charlie grumbled, really not wanting to be there and was seriously considering leaving.

"I don't know, guys," Shawn said, ignoring Charlie, which was taking a risk. "I don't think Big T wants us to take up any more—"

"Oh, no, no, no," Terrence interrupted Shawn, shaking his head. "Go right ahead. Uh, you know, half the lines are down, phones are being worked on right now. We have time for your little trick."

"Oh, yeah?" Shawn asked, while Charlie's interest was peaked by the information of the phones being down. Shawn handed Terrence the pineapple to hold and walked over to the first employee, Rory, who looked Goth. "Loose flowing stanzas, Bobby Frost. Are you a poet by chance?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I am!" Rory exclaimed with his eyes wide as the rest of the office gasped. Charlie couldn't even muster a mock-surprised look, she was just so done; she felt like her chest was tightening, almost like a panic attack. "Wow. How did you know that?"

"I guess you could say I'm a bit of a psychic poet," Shawn said as everyone applauded. "Oh, please, stop."

"'Cause I'm like, I'm freaking out here!" Rory said, surprise and glee all over his face.

"Do you use eyeliner?" Gus asked, kissing ass.

"The guy could be the drummer for The Cure," Shawn said, also brown nosing. Not long after that, the trio left the office and Charlie immediately veered away from Shawn and Gus and to the elevator, not giving them one word as she left them behind.

She got out on the sidewalk and wanted to scream out, not understanding why she was feeling like this. She wanted ice cream and chocolate and a good cuddling partner, in that order. She suddenly realized that she should probably get to the nearest drug store or bathroom, or even head back to her apartment.

After getting home and discovering that yes, she had started her period that was why she felt so shitty, she cuddled under three blankets with two different candy bars and a tub of Oreo ice cream, crying as she watched _Sleepless in Seattle_. She was never this person….unless she was on her period.

That evening, Shawn and Gus let themselves into her apartment while she was lying in misery on the couch still, torn between wanting a burger and fries and wanting to go throw up, her cramps making her so sick. She was now watching _27 Dresses_ , sobbing her eyes out, though it wasn't even that sad; her hormones were just out of whack. Each friend took an end of the couch, Shawn presenting her with chicken strips and an Oreo strawberry milkshake, becoming her favorite person.

"I love you guys, so much," Charlie sobbed, hugging them both tightly. "And I know I act like such a bitch all the time, but I just don't know how to…show my emotions. And if you tell anyone I said this, I'll kill you."

Shawn and Gus both chuckled at how non-threatening that sounded while she was sobbing and they both patted her shoulder and heads, respectively.

Charlie woke up the next morning cuddled on the couch with Shawn and Gus and feeling marginally better. She shoved both of her friends off of her, getting up to get some Midol and a mug of coffee, and going about with fixing breakfast for her friends that had stayed with her all night.

She actually left that morning with Shawn and Gus, feeling happier and not as panicked as she had the previous day. Shawn and Gus stopped on the way back to the office building and bought Charlie an extra large Salted Caramel Mocha and ten Cookies and Cream candy bars, which they stored in her shoulder bag to have at a later time; she burst into tears again, exclaiming how awesome they were.

She followed them to the elevator and back up to their storage closet, where she stayed with Gus while Shawn went up to the 1-800 stress line office. Gus gave Shawn about thirty minutes before he called the stress line, sweltering in the heat of the storage closet; Charlie had cranked it up since she was suffering from chills (she was wearing several layers that morning).

"Put it on speaker," Charlie hissed, sipping away at her coffee, wishing she had a heating pad, which in her opinion, was the best invention ever.

Gus only sighed before he dialed the number, pressing the button to put it on speaker to please Charlie.

"Hello, Stresssline. The extra S is for extra stress and where you can karate chop stress. This is Rory."

"Uh, hi, my name is…Chuck," Gus said slowly. "I've had some, uh, stress."

"Uh-huh," Rory said, almost sounding distracted. "Right, so you're experiencing some stress. Career and personal?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose," Gus said. "I mean, my career's not exactly where I would like it to be."

"How about a girlfriend?" Rory asked.

"No. No, I don't have a girlfriend right now. It's been a while."

"Right," Rory said. In Charlie's opinion, the guy sounded like he could really care less. "Right, that's not good. Um, does it make you have dark thoughts?"

'What?' Charlie mouthed to Gus, bewildered at the turn the conversation had taken. Gus was also in shocked disbelief as he asked, "Like how dark are you talking? Like 'wanna be dead' dark?"

"Okay, easy, I just wanna say this, like, right off the bat, suicide is not the answer," Rory tried to sooth Gus, but was doing a terrible job at it.

'I think we have our killer,' Charlie mouthed to Gus, but he didn't see because he started freaking out at Rory, nearly screeching, "Who said anything about suicide? I just said maybe I should find a new hobby, like coin collecting or something at the beach. I like water activities."

"Like drowning?" Rory asked and Charlie's jaw dropped completely, wondering how messed up the guy really was.

"What? Downing? I don't want to drown!" Gus exclaimed and Charlie had to put a hand on his shoulder to signal him to calm down so they wouldn't be discovered.

"No, no. Of course you don't. That's awful, okay? But I don't care what you say about suicide in the lake being poetic, you know, like, your body floating to the top of the pristine, serene waters, and your final breaths rippling out in the ever-widening circle, you know, like the circle of life. But you have to stop that kind of thinking. You have so much to live for," Rory said and Charlie just shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose; this guy should not be doing this job, whatsoever.

"You're damn straight," Gus seethed. "I have a lot to live for."

"Of course you do," Rory said with a grin in his voice. "You see, I can tell, this phone call is helping you already."

"Okay, well I have to go now," Gus said, looking thrilled to get off the phone with the crazy guy.

"Okay, and just remember, suicide isn't the answer!" Rory said cheerfully before hanging up.

"Well, that phone call was one hell of a roller coaster," Charlie said before slumping in her seat, wishing that she was home and curled up in bed.

"Dude, what the hell was that?" Shawn asked as soon as he returned to their little janitor closest from hell.

"Was he trying to help me?" Gus asked with a slightly dazed look in his eyes. "Cause I feel really creeped out right now."

"Super terrifying," Charlie admitted with a shudder and both of her friends looked at her; she would never admit that under normal circumstances.

"Dude, he put you on the creepy train headed for Creep Island where the natives drink creep nectar our of creepy coconut shells—"

"I think we get the picture, Shawn," Charlie said, feeling a flicker of annoyance.

"Shawn, it's horrible," Gus said, shuddering.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Shawn said, patting Gus' shoulder, while Charlie actually hugged him, much to his total disbelief; now he knew that hell had frozen over.

"He's nuts, Shawn," Gus said after Charlie had let go.

"Nearly psycho," Charlie said with a thoughtful look on her face. "I mean, he has to be to kill all those people.

"Yes!" Shawn exclaimed, looking excited.

"And worst of all he actually made some good points!" Gus said as Charlie tried to tell him that no, Rory didn't make good points while trying not to cry again. "I mean pharmaceutical sales, not sexy. You two are my only non-work friends. There's got to be something wrong with that."

"Well, I don't have any friends other than you two," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes at Gus, her mood shifting very quickly. "And I have two jobs that aren't sexy, despite what some men might think. Are you saying that there's something wrong with me?"

"No!" Gus said quickly, trying to cover up his blunder and not poke the very grumpy bear named Charlie. "Hell no!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Shawn soothed Charlie, pulling a candy bar out of his pocket, handing it to her, which she immediately tore into, humming happily. "What is this?" he asked Gus.

"What?" Gus asked gloomily and Shawn pointed at the very depressing poster of a cat hanging from a tree branch with a caption that said 'Hang in there'.

"Hang in there," Shawn said, trying to talk Gus out of whatever funk he was in.

"He's right," Gus said. "I need to start taking some more risks."

"Does that mean we can go cliff diving in Zihuatenejo?" Shawn asked, looking slightly hopeful and Charlie snorted around a mouthful of chocolate.

"No," Gus said immediately. "I'm being serious, Shawn!"

"Look, would it make you feel any better if I told you Hiltonbock called?" Shawn asked. "We got the apartment!"

"What would make me feel better is if we called the police!" Gus exclaimed in frustration. "This guy is dangerous, Shawn. Let's call Vick."

"Yeah, except she doesn't believe us," Charlie commented and Gus finally had enough, grabbing his coat.

"Well, we have to try, Charlie!" Gus ranted and Charlie only raised an eyebrow at him and he backed down, muttering, "Maybe get him arrested."

"Gus! Gus!" Shawn said, trying to distract him from leaving in a huff.

"What?" Gus nearly snarled, not wanting to spend another minute in a building with a serial killer.

"The only thing this guy is guilty of right now is being a bad poet," Shawn said in his suave, soothing voice, which Charlie hated to admit sometimes calmed her down. "You know how this game works. We cannot just pick up a phone and beg the police to come and save us. Look, just…just stay away from the water for now. Final decision. We wait."

The second he finished speaking, the elevator door dinged and hearing Lassiter's voice, Charlie poked her head out the door of the janitor closet, at that point in her period where she just wanted to take him, anywhere and anyway she could.

"Now, was that so hard?" Shawn asked Gus before following after Lassiter, Juliet, and the Chief to the Stresssline office, Charlie tailing behind him, in a lust haze.

"Maybe you'd care to explain this," Lassiter growled at Rory, holding up an eyeliner pencil as Charlie stood there, staring at Lassie, wishing those big, strong hands were all over her. She didn't even have enough sense to shake herself out of her thoughts as she practically stood there, eye-fucking Lassiter.

She was spaced out until she heard Lassiter start ripping into Rory, after sparing her and Shawn a glance.

"Funny how Gloria Starks' suicide note was scrawled across her windshield in black eyeliner," Lassiter sneered and Charlie shook herself out of her funk (her mood taking another one eighty) as she glared at Lassiter. "Yet no eyeliner was found at the crime scene. You, my friend, is looking at Exhibit A. Bag it, O'Hara."

Charlie snorted while Juliet pulled open an evidence bag, Lassiter dropping the eyeliner pencil inside, while continuing, "You like music, don't you, Rory?"

"Yeah, I do," Rory said proudly. "It's my inspiration."

"I bet," Lassiter said, being stereotypically judgmental and Charlie didn't like it at all; just because Rory was Goth, didn't mean that he only listened to heavy metal. "I bet it inspires you to kill. That's why you couldn't resist playing your big-haired, drug-induced death metal on Mortimer Tilden's stereo, while your forced him to swallow all those pills or on Gloria Starks' car radio while she slipped into unconsciousness, and even now. Let's have a little listen, shall we?"

Lassiter pulled Rory's headphones out of his computer, causing the music to blare out in the office, playing _Up, Up, and Away_ , a showtune and completely the opposite from the heavy metal that Lassiter was expecting.

"Okay, you got me," Charlie said, stepping towards Lassie furiously, shaking off both Shawn and Gus' attempts to hold her back. "Maybe you just arrest me now."

"Miss Matthews?" Chief Vick asked slowly, looking at her like she had grown a third head.

"Just arrest me, assbutt," Charlie said angrily, ignoring Chief Vick. "I mean, I own black eyeliner and occasionally listen to heavy metal. Oh, and I work in this building now, did I mention? Yeah, Shawn opened a small 1-800 business from the janitor closet. That must mean that I did it!"

Lassiter sputtered for a second before hissing out, "Oh, shut it, you harpy."

Charlie grit her teeth, backing away from him, tears actually gathering in the corners of her eyes from hurt and anger, pissing her off even further. Lassiter looked surprised by the tears for a second before his eyes hardened and he turned back to Rory, growling, "What, you think you can pull a fast one on me switching out your head-thrashing crap for this noise?"

"This crap is all I listen to," Rory said, looking scared. "I hate metal music. I use the details that I get from callers to write better poems! I am not a killer!"

"Yeah, I know," Lassiter probed further. "You're a poet, but you're also an assaulter, aren't you? Who do you think arrested you on that assault charge?"

"I didn't kill anybody!" Rory insisted, looking like he was near tears which made Charlie want to break down in tears; damn period hormones!

"Get him out of my sight," Lassiter ordered one of the officers that had come in with him, who then proceeded to arrest Rory, while the rest of the office murmured. Lassiter then whirled on the boss, Terrence, and snarled, "What? You're not taking notes?"

"How could you let him do that?" Gus hissed to Shawn, who stood there silently. "Now, Lassiter gets credit for solving the crime and we don't get paid."

"It isn't about the money, Gus," Charlie seethed to her friend, upset that an innocent man had been arrested, even if he was really creepy.

"And we're gonna get paid," Shawn declared with determination.

"How do you figure?" Gus asked in genuine curiosity, while Shawn handed Charlie another candy bar causing her mood to shift to a bit happier mood.

"Lassiter didn't solve the crime," Shawn explained. "Rory is innocent. He didn't do it."

"He didn't?" Gus asked is disbelief.

"No, he didn't," Charlie said, her hands on her hips, her candy bar devoured already.

"Then who did?" Gus asked, now confused.

"I have an idea about that," Shawn said. "I'll tell you on the way."

On the way out the office building with Gus and Charlie in tow, Shawn told them how he had noticed the man on the telephone pole, seeing the same man in the elevator, McNab telling him how a guy from the phone company had found the victim, and finally, the phone schedule he had seen.

Charlie stood on the ground, watching as Gus attempted to climb the telephone pole on his own, Shawn beside her, thinking he was helping Gus by giving him directions. Shawn had also been nice enough to let Charlie stay on the ground due to PMS, even though she was the best climber out of the three of them, always climbing the highest in the trees when they were kids.

"Just grip the spike with your little foot and climb!" Shawn directed, rather unhelpfully, in Charlie's opinion, who also wished she had a hot coffee in her hands and a heating pad on her lap; she was miserable with the cramps. "Come on! Come on!"

"Why do I gotta go first?" Gus questioned, glancing down at his friends before continuing to try and climb.

"Well, Charlie is suffering from a severe case of PMS and 'cause you're a climbing machine, Gus," Shawn said, sweet-talking Gus. "Just, you know, be careful. Grip the spike with your foot. Okay, oh, okay, okay."

"You know, Gus, you should really rethink your footwear," Charlie commented as the slick sole of Gus' shoe threatened to slide out from under him.

"I got this," Gus grunted back, focusing on climbing on not his PMSing friend while Shawn stood by Charlie, muttering to himself.

"C'mon, reach, Gus!" Charlie teased with a grin. "My grandma could climb that. You know, if I had one."

"Shut up, Charlie," Gus growled out, sweating through his shirt, which Charlie could visibly see from the ground, causing her to chuckle.

"Dudes, dudes!" Shawn suddenly exclaimed, getting excited and acting like a kid at Christmas. "Dudes, I know who the killer is!"

"Can I come down then?" Gus asked, sounding very hopeful.

"Aw, scared of a little height, Gus Gus?" Charlie teased, which he hissed at, but ignored.

Shawn laughed, but quit when Gus threw a glare down at him and then said, "No, no, stay up there. I have to figure out where he's headed."

"Who is it?" Gus asked, hanging on tightly.

"Well, put it this way," Shawn said. "I don't think taking the apartment is such a good idea unless you think it's cool that our would-be landlord is a serial killer."

"Hiltonbock?!" Gus exclaimed.

"Oh, my god! I hugged him!" Charlie hissed out, rubbing at her arms. "I have serial killer germs all over me! I could turn at any moment!"

"Charlie, Charlie, you're fine," Shawn said, hugging her. "There, now you've got Shawn germs instead."

"Thanks," Charlie said sheepishly, wondering if it were possible to die of mortification.

"You're welcome, Charles," Shawn said, smiling fondly at his friend before addressing the case again. "There was a pattern. See, all the murders coincides with dates that Hiltonbock was servicing the phone lines. That's when he had access."

"With this?" Gus asked, pulling down the telephone receiver on the pole, showing it to Charlie and Shawn.

"Yes! Yeah, yeah. Send that down," Shawn practically demanded, Charlie chiding him on manners and him replying with she didn't have any herself so she couldn't preach to him about it, leading Charlie to more tears and hating herself and her period even more as Gus dropped the receiver into Shawn's waiting hands.

"Perfect!" Shawn said. "See, this device stores all the incoming and outgoing calls. My guess is that whatever number he dialed last, that's where Hiltonbock is headed. Whoever that is, is probably his next victim."

Borrowing Charlie's phone because he had once again managed to destroy another phone, this time from dropping it in the toilet, Shawn called the last number, putting it on speaker phone so at least Charlie would be able to hear it.

"Hello, you've reached Buzz McNab. I'm not in right now, but please do leave a message, and I will get back to you when I get in," was the recorded message that Shawn and Charlie heard and Charlie gave an audible gasp, putting her hands over her mouth.

"Oh, shit," she breathed out, ready to sprint for the car at a moment's notice as Shawn dialed again, getting the same result.

"Who are you calling?" Gus asked as Shawn dialed another number, ignoring Gus for the moment.

"Hello, Chief?" Shawn said, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt. "Hey, Shawn Spencer here. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I'm getting a vibe right now as big as a Buick!"

It took a little convincing, but the Chief seemed to believe Shawn, since it involved one of her own, and the trio (after Gus had finally climbed down) rushed for the Blueberry, taking off to McNab's apartment.

They had managed to beat the police to the building, Charlie noticed as she jumped out of the car, leaving Shawn and Gus behind, pressing the doorbell as quickly as she could. She felt like a moron when Shawn came up and just opened the door, finding it unlocked. She cursed to herself, pulling her beloved Glock out of her satchel, clicking the safety off, following Shawn and Gus into the house.

She found McNab standing on top of a chair in just in underwear while Wes Hiltonbock pointed a gun at him.

"Hey, McNab, so this is the place, huh?" Shawn said, keeping the air as calm as he could with two people in the room with guns. Charlie had her gun on Wes, glaring at the fucker, mentally daring him to make a move so she could shoot him. "It's nice. It's really nice."

"Go ahead, make my day," Charlie dared Wes, quoting Clint Eastwood, just as Lassiter arrived. Charlie could make out lust in his eyes as he looked at her holding her gun, as well as hearing her quote his favorite actor to a criminal before turning serious.

"Drop it!" Lassiter growled deeply at Wes, looking furious. "Don't come any closer. Put it down or I will drop you!"

"I swear, I'm gonna shoot him," Wes said, pointing his gun at Buzz.

"Drop it!" Lassiter shouted again.

"You shoot my friend, I will shoot you," Charlie threatened. "Jail be damned."

"Everyone breathe," Shawn said, trying to create a soothing atmosphere. "Just breathe!"

"Get out of here," Lassiter hissed out, but Shawn ignored him and continued talking.

"Well, the other ones must have gone a lot smoother than this, huh, Hiltonbock?" Shawn asked and Charlie inched closer to Lassie as the stupid cat wandered into the room, walking right by her leg; she didn't want cat hair on her pristine black pants.H "Though, comparatively, it was probably pretty easy to get Mortimer Tilden to swallow those pills. Because you are not really a coldblooded serial killer. Are you?"

"No, but he threw his own brother off a building!" Lassiter scowled, making things worse.

"I didn't push him off the roof," Hiltonbock defended himself, faltering slightly.

"No, no, no," Shawn tried to sooth again. "No, you didn't. You didn't do that. But you were there. You saw it. You saw the whole thing. You saw him jump off the balcony of the apartment that you shared."

"He was weak," Wes sniffed, sounding to Charlie like he thought he was superior.

"There's a lot of weak people out there, Hiltonbock," Shawn said gently, not wanting anyone to get shot. "Are you gonna track them all down, huh, one at a time? Punish them for their weakness? You wanna get back at your brother so badly, you don't even care who these people were, just that they called the line. And look, you're gonna kill McNab here just because he had a few pre-wedding jitters."

"I—I was just looking for a little advice," Buzz stammered, looking at Lassiter, who just rolled his eyes. "Nobody else would talk to me."

"It's okay, Buzz," Shawn said with a smile. "We all have stress. All of us. Right here in this room. I mean, take a good look, Hiltonbock. We all have problems. Who else deserves to get shot or hung? Maybe it's Gus."

"That's enough, Spencer," Lassiter warned.

"No. Shoot him," Shawn said, trying to push Wes further.

"What? What are you doing?" Gus asked, alarmed and Charlie moved to stand in front of her friend, sending Shawn a quick glare when Wes pointed the gun pointed the gun at Gus, though it was actually aimed at her.

"Yeah, maybe I should," Wes sneered.

"Whoa!" Shawn exclaimed.

"What did you think was going to happen, Shawn?" Charlie hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Don't listen to him," Gus pleaded with Wes, moving closer behind Charlie, peeking over her shoulder, terrified. "He's a crazy person. He's crazy."

"That's right, I am crazy," Shawn said, jutting his chin out slightly. "So maybe you should shoot me."

"Okay," Wes agreed, aiming his gun at Shawn.

"Shawn!" Charlie growled, edging in front of Shawn, Gus moving away from the pair and away from the gun.

"Here's the best part," Shawn continued, ignoring Charlie, but peeking over her shoulder much like Gus had. "It doesn't matter what I think, because you have a problem that's a lot bigger than me." Shawn pointed at Lassiter with a, "This guy," and Wes aimed his gun at Lassie, Charlie not relaxing at all but kept her gun on Wes. "The man with his gun trained on you is not only a fine human being, with a strong Irish hairline; he is an exemplary public servant, and arguably the finest detective mind in the lower western Santa Barbara County area over the age of thirty-five. And right now, while I'm speaking, he is devising a swift and stealth-like tactic that is going to disarm you, and blow your freaking mind!"

Charlie's muscles froze even more in preparation to lunge at Wes, who looked confused and nervous and started charging towards Lassiter.

"Anytime you're ready," Shawn said quickly. "All right, we gotta make the move."

Charlie had never been gladder to see the little boy cat in her life as it jumped off a top shelf and onto Wes, resulting in Wes becoming distracted enough for Lassiter to tackle him to the ground. Charlie gave a sigh of relief, lowering her weapon as Buzz got off the chair, bending over to pick up Wes' gun, putting his butt right in Lassiter's face, causing Charlie to giggle. Actually giggle, which was uncharacteristic for her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lassiter exclaimed, snapping his eyes shut before turning to Shawn saying, "That was adequate, Spencer."

"Don't thank me," Shawn said with a grin. "Thank the little boy cat."

"Come on," Lassiter growled, pulling Wes up off the floor, the man groaning, "Ow! Ow!" from the force of Lassie's tackle.

"There you are," Shawn cooed, picking up the cat to hold him close and stroke him. "There's my big guy. You are a hero. You are a hero today. Yes. Speaking of heroes, McNab, I was gonna get you something off the registry online, but it turns out the Chief already got you the asparagus steamer."

"Shawn," Charlie groaned, the man not being able to keep any secrets. Buzz's face went from worried to lighting up the room brightly.

"So, instead I—I give you this little guy," Shawn said, handing the cat over to Buzz. "Yeah. If you, uh, take him in the car, he likes to ride up front, shotgun."

Charlie just shook her head at Shawn, leaving the room to head back to the Blueberry, ready to head home and curl up with a steaming mug of peppermint tea. She cuddled on the couch again with Shawn and Gus that night, watching a new episode of _Supernatural_ , ignoring Gus' many, many questions.

They camped out on the couch and then next morning, she was too grumble-y to fix them breakfast so she pulled down boxes of cereal and smacked them down on the table for her friends, fixing herself a cup of coffee, her mood improving slightly with ever sip.

"You know, there's something beautiful about the color Fruity Puffs turns the milk," Gus commented after he had gotten a bowl of cereal.

"I think it's the most beautiful thing in the whole world," Shawn agreed and Charlie groaned at their stupidity.

"You know, I've been thinking," Gus started and Charlie knew that it was never a good thing when Gus started thinking like that. "You're not the only one who lives a charmed life, Shawn. I got it pretty good, too."

"Yes, you do, and it makes me glad to hear you say so," Shawn said and it got Charlie to thinking about how she had it better than most.

"I mean, the other day at work, this dermatologist, Katie Finestatt, commented how I looked handsome carrying my sample case into her office," Gus said and Charlie had to snort around a mouthful of coffee, covering it up as just choking on a drink.

"Finestatt said that?" Shawn asked, trying to mask the surprise in his voice, knowing that Gus needed the confidence.

"Yes, she did, and she is fine!" Gus said with a dreamy smile on his face. "So, it got me thinking. Maybe pharmaceutical sales can be sort of sexy."

"There are times when I have to stand a few feet away, because you're literally sizzling," Shawn said and this time Charlie couldn't mask the snort that escaped her mouth that time, Gus giving her a death glare.

"Sorry, Gus," Charlie said.

"Whatever, Charlie," Gus said before turning back to Shawn. "You see what I'm saying? I mean, you two may by my only non-work friends, but you're both my best friends. And how many best friends does one guy need, really?" Shawn held up one finger before Charlie smacked him upside the head and he added another finger with a sheepish smile. "That's my point," Gus said, grinning at his friends.

"It's all in the attitude, Gus," Shawn said, also smiling.

"Exactly," Gus said and Charlie took pity on her friends and started breakfast, putting the cereal away with Shawn and Gus protesting it until they saw what she was up to. "Not sweating the small stuff.

"Life it too short," Shawn said, leaning back in his chair, putting his hands behind is head.

"Too short," Gus agreed, watching hungrily as Charlie fried bacon and started some French toast. "Changing my attitude, Shawn."

Gus grabbed the box of cereal, emptying out the rest of the cereal into his bowl just to get the prize that was in the bottom, but nothing came out.

"Where the hell is my prize?" Gus exclaimed loudly and Charlie started to rethink breakfast as she groaned. "Where's my ring, Shawn?"

"Easy now," Shawn said, using his soothing voice.

"No, no, I've timed the bowls out perfectly, Shawn. Me, then you, then me, then you, then I get the prize!" Gus started yelling, getting worked up as he broke open the bottom of the box, finding nothing.

"What happened to 'Not sweating the small stuff? Life's too short', all that?" Shawn asked.

"Did you open the bottom of the box?" Gus asked Shawn, referring to what Shawn did when they were kids.

Shawn held up his hand, revealing the mood ring on his finger and asked, "Now, why would I do something like that?"

"That's my ring!" Gus cried out and Charlie knew that she would have to step in soon. "You know I would kill for that ring, don't you?"

"Uh, you're upsetting me," Shawn said in mock despair. "You just changed my mood from an orangey-yellow to a muddy brown. You need to say something sweet. Quick."

Gus didn't respond; he put his finger in Shawn's bowl of milk before trying to get up and walk away.

"Gus! Sit down!" Charlie scolded and Gus immediately sat back down at the table, cowering in the fear of Charlie's PMS. "Shawn, give me the stupid ring. It's just a cheap trinket and neither of you deserve it. Gus, stop throwing a temper tantrum. You guys are grown ass men and need to stop acting like children!"

Shawn decided to open his mouth then and say the single most stupid thing of his life:

"What about how you act around Lassie, then?"


End file.
